Devour Prometheus
by LadyBattossai
Summary: -Complete- Waking up from a nightmare late one autumn night, Kagome discovers Inuyasha is missing, leaving her to embark on a harrowing journey of death and consumption that will fade the line between humanity and youkaikind.
1. Missing

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter One: Missing

Piercing her with a sinister edge, an ominous blade intruded into the haze of Kagome's mind as she slept. Shapeless and heavy with nameless anguish, it punctured through her dreams and tore desperate whimpers from her lips. Her pleas however, went unheeded as it sunk in deeper, its malevolent intent focusing into a once welcoming image. Dyed in familiar red and white, a vision of Inuyasha appeared in her thoughts, soothing her anxiety with the warmth of his presence.

"Inuyasha," she spoke his name softly as the edges that defined him solidified, burning away the creeping darkness that surrounded him.

"Feh," the half demon answered with a fang clipping his lip as he smirked at her needless concern. Amber irises glittering with the knives of his pupils nearly splitting them in half, he embraced the miko with his spirited gaze. Easy breaths of relief filled her lungs as she soaked up the sight of him and the indomitable confidence that colored his voice. "Are you worried, Kagome?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized with a light laugh, embarrassed over the fear that had rooted so deeply a moment ago. "I know I shouldn't be, but-"

"But you should be."

"What?"

"You should be afraid," he finished darkly. Then suddenly, his body shuddered and the self-assured smile she relied upon faded. Once brimming with life, his now confused eyes swiftly dulled behind a milky film. Stark against his paling skin, blood trickled from the corners of his mouth and then down through his thick locks of hair as it poured from his ears. With a sickening thump, his forearm fell to the ground, severed at the elbow. His other arm soon followed, splattering red when it struck. Knees buckled next as his gradually dismembering body collapsed into a heap of blood-drenched clothes and disjointed parts. Briefly lolling to the side, his head then toppled from his neck and tumbled down the lumps. Across the ground it bounced and rolled until it came to a stop before her. Staring up with vacant eyes and with blood smeared across his face, the hanyou rasped her name. "Kagome."

"Inuyasha!" the priestess cried out breathlessly as she woke up with a start. Searing her neck and forehead, stinging sweat beaded on her flush skin while her pounding heart raced in her chest. A torrent of heavy breaths tore at her raw throat and she lowered her weary head into her palms. It was all a dream. It had to be. None of it was real. Hunched over as she cradled her head, the smoky scent of burning embers wafted into Kagome's nostrils. As familiar as it was a source of comfort, the odor slowed both her breaths and her straining pulse. This was real. That she knew.

Then she brushed away her bangs sticky with sweat from her forehead and looked around the small campsite. Dwindled to a gentle, orange glow, the last glimmers of the fire in the shallow hearth met her sight before her eyes finally rose. Surrounding her were the tall pillars of conifers that stood as sentries around her, protecting her as she slept from the elements. Crinkling as her body still trembled, a thick mat of pine needles lay piled under her thin futon. She had swept them up in the early evening when she needed to use a few as kindling and discovered that the rest proved comfortable enough as a cushion.

The cool, night air then brushed against her moist skin and the miko pulled her disheveled, priestess clothing closer. With the heat brought by her terrifying nightmare cooling, the frigid touch of autumn had found her once more. Returning from an emergency, youkai extermination, she and Inuyasha were heading home after their success. Even with him carrying her nearly the entire way, it was still two days of traveling across the rugged terrain of feudal Japan. Then, her breath seized as a thought struck her, sending her anxious sight to search again over the simple camp. Where was Inuyasha?

"Inuyasha!" she yelled, blindly finding her footing as her eyes darted back and forth between the intertwined branches of the looming trees. Silhouetted in black against the trickling moonlight that penetrated their boughs, no hanyous sat cradled in their limbs. "Inuyasha!"

An unnatural silence answered her calls with even the harmonious tunes of the crickets strangely absent in the dead air. Kagome bent down, hastily gathering up her quiver and bow. Slinging the long, arrow-filled pouch onto her back, she scanned the site one last time for a hopeful glimpse of red. Finding what she expected and not what she wanted, she took a deep breath and stepped into the dark forest.

Filtered moonlight lit her way as she wove through the undergrowth, its rays dappling the winding path in a gray-blue. From the low lying foliage to the reaching canopy high above, she poured over every shadow for him until a warm sensation stirred in her body. Sharpening with every step, the tingle of electricity coursed down her spine and she knew instantly where to go. The memorable prickle of purification magic slowly swelled the air and somewhere beyond the curtain of trees before her was its source.

The jagged tips of bony branches clawed and ripped at her clothing as she pressed through the brush, forging her own trail as she followed the magic. The pale hues of unhindered moonlight peeked through the final trees, promising an end to the dense forest. Her pace quickening with her urgency, the miko stumbled through the last of it and out onto a rutted, dirt road.

Needles and twigs protruding from her unruly hair and from her sap-stained robes, she walked across the dusty earth and into a large clearing that lay on the other side. Ahead, she could feel a tingling warmth. Rife with tall grass, Kagome waded through the field, the silvery blades brushing against her as they parted. The intensity of the magic grew with every step until she unexpectedly found a boulder hidden in the deep grass with her foot. Catching herself before she could trip, she turned to examine the perfectly round rock. Looped around its girth was a large, hemp rope, its two dangling ends trailing off at a curve in opposing directions. Taking one in her hand, she traced its path. The thick cord slid through her grasp until she felt a hanging piece of paper tickle her fingertips. Lifting the rope up higher, she spied the carefully folded streamer and her heart sank with a foreboding realization. A powerful seal had been constructed in this clearing. Then her eyes rose to find proof in disrupted soil and bent shafts of grass that shaped the unmistakable circle of the barrier.

Letting the rope fall back into place, the miko took a deep breath before gingerly stepping over the line and into the seal. Weaker than she anticipated, the barrier felt weirdly broken to her senses as she walked across the overturned earth. Its strangeness was not alone in capturing her curiosity when she knelt down to tug at a few shreds of bruised and ripped grass. In her brief yet intensive experience, even the most powerful seals didn't disturb the land they were cast upon. A struggle must have happened here. As she continued to sort through the trampled field in her quest to understand it, a strange shape stole her attention next. Out of place, it was a length of smooth wood and she leaned forward to pick it up.

"The Staff of Heads?" she whispered her confusion as she retrieved the ornately crafted staff topped with the carved heads of an old man and a young woman. Lighter than it looked, she noticed a spattering of dots across its odd beauty as she turned it over. Smearing when she touched them, the droplets dyed her fingers in their dark color. She rubbed the strange liquid between her fingertips and then put it up to her nose to sniff. A metallic tone permeated its odor and she knew before she tasted it what it could only be. Sharp on her tongue and completely inimitable, it was blood.

Rising to her feet, she saw the clearing with new eyes. Across the trodden grass and clumps of soil, generous sprays of blood clung, glowing eerily red when the moonlight struck them just right. The heavy pounding of her heartbeat returned, throbbing harder as a wet wave of dread washed over her. More than a simple, unfriendly skirmish, a brutal battle had happened here in the night and as she stepped back, the scarred earth took shape. Disguising the perfect lines of its features, shredded grass laid heavily over the thick, straight grooves that dug deeply into the ground, the furrows growing more pronounced as they fanned away from her.

"Kaze no Kizu," Kagome whispered the technique that only Tessaiga wrought. "Inuyasha!" Swallowing down her rising fear as the air carried his name into the night without reply; the miko hastily trampled around the circle and continued to call out for the missing hanyou. In her unchecked worry, she nearly missed a pair of dark stains leading away through the otherwise pristine sea of lush green. A short distance from where she made her own entrance into the barrier, two trails snaked toward the dirt road not far away. One was massive, as if a creature not much larger than a horse had been dragged through the clearing. Beside it, a smaller figure had been pulled in the same fashion. A figure the size of a man.

Doggedly chasing her only clue, Kagome chose the distinctly smaller path and made her way down it. Muddled with the moist soil, smears of blood lined the bottom of the trail and she did her best to keep the worst from her mind as she searched for the distinct red of firerat fur. An unexpected sigh of relief escaped her as the path ended emptily with the dust of the lonely road. Combining together with the generous pools spilling from the adjacent path, the blood trail clotted into thick blobs as it mixed with the dirt and then ended in a few short steps. Ahead were the fine impressions of wooden wheels surrounded by sandaled footprints. Kneeling down, the miko examined the crisp lines that weather had yet to dull. A wagon had been the destination for what had been dragged through the clearing, its trail remarkably clear even to her untrained eye. Rising to stand once she was sure of her conclusion, her sharp sight caught a tangled bit of white conspicuously cradled in the grip of a low-hanging branch. Freeing a few fingers from the staff she still held, she reached out and plucked it from its rest. Undoing the knotted mass with her fingers, the long lengths of thick, white hair were speckled with red and a fresh urgency gripped Kagome's heart.

"Inuyasha," she whispered again, tears stinging her eyes while her clutching hand tightened around the hair. "I'm coming."

A sudden rustle of leaves and snapping twigs startled the young miko before she could take her first step to his hopeful rescue. Spinning swiftly on her heel, she turned to face a lonely copse of trees that stood like a solitary island amid the soft waves of grass. Beyond the circle of the broken barrier, the unsettling crinkling died quickly to leave the night air in its awkward silence yet again.

Motionless and wide-eyed, Kagome stared at the distant clump of trees. Her sight poured over each shadow, spying unnatural and terrifying figures looming in the darkness. Biting her lower lip nervously, she willfully discounted them as figments of her overly excited imagination, denying them the chance to falter her resolve. Then as if anticipating her determination, another abrupt crunching of leaves gouged away at her courage and a gasp of fear escaped her.

Fingers tightening around the grainy wood of her bow, the miko turned her head away to face the disappearing end of the road as it wound out of sight into the woods. Fear aside, a choice had found her. One was the path to Inuyasha and undoubtedly the quicker she took it, the sooner she would be able to save him. Rubbing his lock of stained hair between her fingers, she then returned her gaze to the mysterious copse. She could not ignore the possible clues it held for her along with the unnamed danger that awaited her there as well. Finally with a nod, she made her decision.

A/N: My new story has begun. I will warn all who read this that from this chapter on out the story gets very dark and psychological with characters doing things that they might not do under other circumstances. I really want to stretch what it means to be human and what it means to be a demon and how the two overlap in unexpected and terrifying ways.


	2. Hidden Wounds

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Two: Hidden Wounds

Setting the Staff of Heads down along the road so that she could find it easily again, Kagome swallowed hard on the lump of anxiety that stuck in her throat before taking her first steps back into the field. The waist-length grass tickled her fists, one gripping her bow and the other Inuyasha's lost clump of hair. With careful steps, she slipped silently through the clearing, her wary eyes rarely wandering from the dark cluster of trees.

The disturbed earth of the barrier a distance behind her, the miko finally broached the border of thinning grass surrounding the copse. Ahead lay a thick blanket of dried leaves and fallen twigs. Her attempt at stealth likely to end with their crunching, she swiftly paused in indecision. What was she to do? Passing through a field of soft, quiet grass was easy enough, but that was definitely the limit of her agility. A priestess is not a hunter and she was barely a priestess.

Then a faint wave of demonic aura kissed her skin with goose bumps and sent her fingers to pull an arrow from her quiver. In an easy motion, she dropped the knot of white hair into her ample sleeve and docked the thin projectile. Gripping the smooth string lightly as she balanced the arrow, Kagome's honed reflexes waited patiently for the advent of danger. Even if she was not the image of priestess perfection, her skills in archery were nothing to scoff at.

Prepared for the worst should it attack, she relaxed enough to absorb the youki that filled the crisp air around her. Fierce and strangely familiar, the aura would tell her less than the creature's struggling breaths. Barely audible at first, her rapt concentration from studying the youki and the unnatural silence of the night had cued her into its pained gasps. Whatever it was, it was injured and it most definitely wasn't human.

Straining her sight in the dim moonlight, she scanned the thick foliage for a glimpse of what was concealed behind the dense tangle of branches and leaves. Hints of white clothing peeked through as she crouched down and shifted side-to-side to get a better look, causing the sense of familiarity to only grow. That she had met it before and that it was now hurt dwelled in her thoughts and the miko knew there was no retreat. There was no abandoning it to the night. She had to discover what it was and how she could help it.

Another tingling wave of youki swept over her, leaving the certainty that it was a powerful demon in its wake. Nibbling again at her lower lip, Kagome anxiously debated between two avenues of action. The first would be to do her best to sneak in closer so that she could discover who it was and what its injuries were. The second was to announce herself at this close, but conceivably safe distance. It was the likely event of startling a wounded demon of considerable strength that ultimately decided for her. She really didn't plan on dying tonight, especially when Inuyasha's life hung in the balance.

"Excuse me!" she called out nervously, unsure of what to say even as the words left her mouth. "I-I'm Kagome and I've come to help you."

The low rumble of a growl was the reply as invisible winds of youki fluttered the leaves clinging to the branches. Piercing through the web of undergrowth, a pair of red eyes glowed brilliantly as the growl grew into a vicious snarl. Then the flashes of white she spied earlier rushed toward her. The sharp sounds of limbs snapping heralded its way and reflexively, the miko pulled her bowstring tight. A blur of white, black and muted red erupted from the copse and lunged. The ready arrow was loosed from her grip as she screamed her terror and the hot beam of purification magic burst pink as it struck the creature hard in the chest.

Colliding lifelessly into her, Kagome felt her feet leave the ground as they flew backward together. With the heavy weight of its body on top and the weightless air underneath her, time seemed to crawl as they soared back. Then in a series of loud thumps, they struck the ground hard, sliding and tumbling over jagged clumps of roots, rocks and clods of dirt before they came to a stop. The air knocked clean from her, the miko struggled to cough and breathe with the excruciating pain from their impact radiating across her back and through her chest. Smothered completely under its body, she desperately clawed and pushed against it, her justifiable fear of suffocation fueling her frenzy. Using the strength of both her feet and hands, she flipped it over onto its back, finally freeing herself.

Moans and curses lacing the deep breaths that heaved her chest; Kagome winced as the sharp ache that flooded throughout her torso spiked painfully with every intake of air. Turning her head, she finally spied over at her assailant and then gasped. Meeting her glance was a handsome face with a pair of stripes painted on each cheek and a crescent moon centered on his forehead. Forgetting her pain and her purpose, she scrambled to her hands and knees and slid away from the motionless figure of the perennially dangerous daiyoukai.

"Sesshoumaru," she whispered his name, her frightened eyes washing over him as she mumbled. "I'm dead. I'm so, so dead." Darkly stained, her once white haori coat caught her attention next and she gasped again. Sticky and wet with blood, the truth of her hushed words resonated in her mind and distressed whimpers escaped from her lips. Could it be that she was already dead? Ripping open the front of her overcoat, she felt frantically between the folds of her undercoat for the flesh beneath. Smooth skin welcomed her seeking fingers and she wrenched her clothes open further so that she could see for sure. No raw, open wounds greeted her sight; instead it was only the gentle curves of her womanly chest that reflected the soft light. 'If it's not my blood,' she thought wordlessly, her gaze rising from her creamy skin and falling to the unmoving youkai lord beyond, 'Then it's his.'

Tucking her coats securely back into place, the miko rose to her feet. Leaves and mud clinging to the back of her clothes, she cautiously approached the demon. With eyes closed and unnoticeable breaths, he remained deathly still as she neared. As she came to stand beside his head, the air grew heavy with the sound of her heartbeat thundering in her ears. There she studied his peaceful expression, swallowing dryly on a hard knot of dread stuck in her throat. As inescapable as destiny, she imagined the violent demon's red eyes blinking open in a rage before he sprang up and snapped her neck to end her fragile life.

"S-Sesshoumaru," she called out softly as if afraid of her own voice, but as she spoke it again louder, he remained unmoved and unnaturally pale even in the cool moonlight. Putting away her conjured fears for the reality lying before her, Kagome poured over the stains of dirt and grass soiling his refined attire of silk and leather, searching for what had felled such an unrivaled demon lord.

Protruding conspicuously from just beneath his left collarbone was her answer and her hand flew to her lips in a gasp as she instantly recognized it. Fletched with white feathers at its end, an arrow had pierced his chest, leaving a ring of black, singed silk around the wound. Since recovering from that terrifying moment when he had lunged at her, she had forgotten about the purifying arrow she had loosed. Collapsing to her knees, she lightly grasped the smooth shaft of the thin projectile. Gripping it tighter as her nerve hardened, she took a final, deep breath and gave the arrow a firm yank. Stubbornly lodged, it did not budge, but after several more determined tugs, she felt it slowly give. Then with a wet sound, out it came, its sharp arrowhead slick with blood and with bits of red flesh hooked in the barbs.

"Sesshoumaru, I'm sorry," she pleaded, tossing the offending arrow away and then seeking his placid expression to wait with mixed desperation for him to wake. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident. I didn't know it was you." Despite the earnestness of her apology, the torture of his unconsciousness persisted, leaving her to wonder of the unthinkable. To wonder if he was still alive.

Nervously, she leaned in close, holding her breath as she listened for his. Emptily, a long moment passed to deepen her fears before she sighed shakily in weary relief. Disturbingly shallow and sparingly given, the miko felt the daiyoukai's light exhales brushing icily against her cheek. At least there was no doubt now that he was alive, even after being struck by her purification arrow.

Her respite was short-lived as a new dilemma took root in her mind, driving her to carefully inspect his figure once more. Even with the arrow removed, he hovered dangerously near death, his usually overwhelming youki nonexistent even as her honed sensitivity groped for its presence. Dark and effectively camouflaged by the black armor surrounding it, an unnoticed stain of blood finally caught her eye. Low on his side and just above his left hip, the fabric of his haori coat was drenched and heavy to the touch. Kagome felt the ragged sensation of a tear and then through the tucked folds of cloth, she slipped to the skin beneath. A deep gash met her fingers and in the midst of torn flesh and the thick viscosity of coagulated blood, there was something hard buried in the muscle. Using a pinching forefinger and thumb, she dug into the wound, but with his coats and armor impeding her attempts, she could not pry it loose.

Cursing under her breath, she eventually withdrew her hand in marked frustration, wiping the excess blood that slicked her fingers onto her leg. Then without a pause of indecision, she reached under the spiked, metal arch of his shoulder armor and undid the leather straps that bound it to his body. Doing the same for the ties at his waist, she stood up to lift the hardened leather backed with plated steel away from his chest and then with a grunt, tossed it clumsily onto the grass beside him.

Returning to his side, she settled again onto her knees and then took the lapels of his overcoat into her hands. Pulling them firmly up, she loosened the tucked ends from beneath his hakama pants. Parting easily after being freed, she opened his coat up to reveal the thinner one below it and blanched at what she saw. Blackening as it clotted, the creeping designs of spilt blood dyed the delicate silk. She then peeled the soaked fabric away, revealing the blotched skin and hard lines of his muscular torso underneath.

Fine, silver hairs reflecting white in the moonlight trailed down from the groomed field on his well-built chest to form a line of red as they continued onto his rippled abdomen. Tracing her fingers along his sinewy waist, Kagome rediscovered the open wound she had found earlier and slipped her forefinger and thumb back into it. Biting her lip while she blindly groped through the shredded muscle, she encountered the hard roundness of a string of beads with her touch. Gliding up them gently, she soon found the true culprit behind his injury, the forged smoothness of a long, metal, needle.

Gripping it tightly, the miko pulled hard on the deeply-sunken weapon, careful to drag it back down the path it had struck when it had pierced him. Thickly coated with blood, the slender end of the needle finally appeared at the opening and her eyes widened as she smeared away the gore from the beads that dangled from its narrow grip, realizing they were tiny bells instead.

After one last pull, the cruel weapon fell out easily and landed onto her palm. In that moment, red, glowing eyes split by thin, navy pupils flew open and the demon lord's dormant youki whipped up in a violent torrent. A snarl laced with uninhibited rage growled from his lips and his fierce glare which previously held the night sky above flashed to Kagome as she sat beside him frozen in terror. With protruding fangs glinting and claws sharpened, the daiyoukai slowly sat up, his inhuman sight never leaving her ashen face or allowing her to doubt his malevolent intent as he slowly raised his right hand glowing green with poison.

"S-Sesshoumaru," she forced out in a stuttered whisper, wanting desperately to flee her certain death, but finding that her once dependable strength had instead abandoned her to it. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you." Uttered so timidly that the angry blood rushing in his ears nearly deafened him to it, the familiar sound of his name penetrated his enraged mind. Burning red fading to a cool gold, his eyes softened to a look of puzzlement as he recognized the frightened woman kneeling beside him.

"Miko, why are you here?" he asked evenly, his deep voice hoarse and quiet. He instantly regretted speaking as a stabbing pain erupted behind his temples and his hand flew to cradle his head, the acidic vapors of youki surrounding his fingers dissipating before they touched. After several more wince-inducing surges, the youkai lord began to anticipate the waves of his throbbing headache and then through discipline, he subdued its potency so that he could bury it in the back of his mind.

Once satisfied, he blinked his amber eyes open and then lowered his hand to seek the reason behind the priestess' unusual silence. She was never one to hold her tongue in the past, an irritating nature of which he could not understand Inuyasha's fondness for. Spying up, he caught her vacant expression, still unchanged from when he first realized who she was. His brow furrowing lightly, he did swiftly notice one change; shimmering streaks now traced her cheeks as tears seeped from her wide, unseeing eyes.

"Miko?" he called out again, waving a clawed hand in front of her face, "Miko?" Unresponsive to his repeated address, the notion of slapping her into reasonableness crossed his thoughts before being dismissed when a more effective idea came to mind. Now what was that name? "Kagome?"

Startled into the present by the sound of her name, Kagome blinked slowly and then with it spoken once more, she took a few deep, shaky breaths until her gaze focused on the puzzled look of the demon before her.

"Yes," she finally answered, rubbing away the wetness glossing her cheeks with the heel of her hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you."

"While I am not necessarily inclined to punish you for your indiscretion in disrobing me as your intentions were for my health, I cannot fathom how you were unaware that I was Sesshoumaru."

"No, I mean," she whispered remorsefully, pointing toward the charred, circular wound in his chest. "I didn't mean to shoot you."

"Hn," he snorted with nearly indiscernible surprise, fingering the oozing hole below his collarbone. Invisible but doubtlessly at work, he felt the tickling sensations of youki rebuilding the burned muscle and bone. "Your concern is unnecessary. It is already healing."

"But, I shot you. Aren't you angry? Don't you want to kill me for my impudence or something?"

"How can I fault you for protecting your life?" he remarked disinterestedly, his attention instead following his hand as it slid down his long torso to examine the larger wound on his side. "I was not in a rational state to discern your priestess powers from theirs and you did only as what one would expect in your position. Ultimately, fortune favored us both in that moment."

"But-"

"Where is it?" he interrupted brusquely, bored of her trivial concern in light of the grim injury he now squeezed shut between the pressure of his thumb and fingers. Willing his weakened aura to seal it, the youkai lord then spied up at the miko puzzled into silence and elaborated. "Where is the needle?"

"Oh, here," she replied, producing the cruel weapon that she still held in her palm. Picking it up carefully by its slightly wider handle, she carefully reached toward him with it in hand and the dangling bells jingled as they swayed. The dulcet sound rang sweetly in the air and the demon's outstretched hand that meant to take the needle instead lowered slowly without it. Drained of their burgundy color by the toll of his injuries, the daiyoukai's eyelids drooped and the blood once staunched by his healing youki began to trickle again from his wounds.

"Do not permit them to ring," he whispered slowly, his words slurring as drowsiness consumed his faculties, threatening to send him back to unconsciousness.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she apologized frantically, scooping the tiny bells into her palm and squeezing them tight to keep them from chiming. "Are you all right? Is that better?"

"Yes," he answered groggily, blinking his eyes as his overpowering lethargy reluctantly departed.

"What are they?" she asked in amazement, peeking at the innocuous balls of metal from between the grip of her fingers.

"They are tools of your kind, priestess. You should know their purpose better than I."

"Tools of my kind? Do you mean this belongs to a miko?"

"Hn," he snorted as he attempted to refocus his youki into his wounds. To his benefit, the puncture in his chest had been cauterized well by the heat of the arrow; however the blood loss from the deep gash at his waist was nothing short of troubling. He would have to take measures to replace it and soon. "That you are a revered miko and that you do not recognize the weapons of your trade is astounding."

"Look, I was never formally trained until recently, so I don't know all there is to the art of being a priestess. These bells look ritualistic and from how you reacted, they must do something, but beyond that, I don't know what they are."

"You will discover their purpose sooner than you might expect," he predicted coolly as he spied over his shoulder at the dirt road hidden beyond the field. "They are returning."

"Who are?"

"The ones who took Inuyasha and my retainers."

Rising to a cautious crouch, the wary miko peered over the waves of grass and caught the gray movement of a wagon approaching. Dressed in black with stark, white masks concealing their faces, shadowy figures leapt over the gate from the hold and began their stealthy weave through the clearing.

"What are we going to do?"

"You will commit one act, miko," Sesshoumaru commanded as he finished rewrapping his exposed torso in the soaked silk of his raiment and then reached for the weight of his armor.

"What will I do?"

"Fetch your arrow," he answered solemnly, blindly knotting the ties of his chest piece, but never once letting his grim sight waver from hers, "And pierce me through the chest."


	3. Hunger

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Three: Hunger

"What?" Kagome asked incredulously, not quite believing the words he had undoubtedly spoken. "You want me to shoot you with another arrow?"

"Quiet your voice," the youkai lord warned, "They are nearing."

"I don't understand," she whispered. "You're already injured, why make it worse? I might kill you this time."

"It is a ruse," he elaborated harshly before his tone softened to its typical severity, "Stab me with the arrow in the same location that it struck before and perhaps we can deceive them into believing that I am slain."

"Why would we need to do that? What do they want?"

"We do not possess time for explanations, miko and as they approach, our prospects of mutual survival diminishes. If you truly care for that hanyou brother of mine, you will do as I say."

With his unsettling assurances of Inuyasha's peril spurring her into action, the priestess reached for another arrow from her quiver. Then an abrupt wave of his hand drew her attention to the burnt and bloody one she had tossed away instead. Believability was the key to their deception and she nodded in agreement before crawling quietly toward the discarded weapon. Dirt clinging to its shaft and fletching, she freed it of the dust with a few sweeps of her fingers and then made her way back to the demon's side.

The triangular tip still tainted with blood and globs of flesh, she held it steadily over the dark wound surrounded by charred silk and suddenly felt her determination falter. Fetching the arrow was simple enough, but as its barbed head hovered over his chest, the cruel reality of the next act stayed her hand. The impersonal nature of using a bow had kindly sheltered her from the brutal intimacy that came with piercing an enemy with a blade and even though it was the familiar feel of an arrow that she gripped, the idea of stabbing another with it disturbed her deeply.

Clammy and strangely cold, a hand wrapped around hers and Kagome's gaze left the hole in his chest for the serious intensity of his golden eyes. Then without a hint of warning, he plunged her hand down and the arrowhead drove deep into the wound. The ease with which the sharp tip penetrated startled her and she winced while he bore the pain with unflinching sobriety, his hard sight never leaving her horrified expression. Her body shaking even as he held her hand steady, the sensations of his healing flesh and bone tearing persisted until the tight fit of the deep tissue beneath locked the arrow in place.

Accompanying a hushed rustle of grass, tall, jagged shadows fell over her and Kagome felt her heart jump into her throat with their sudden arrival. A mixture of dread and terror coursed through her and she slowly looked back over her shoulder at the looming figures standing behind her. Dressed in a black that even the bright moonlight dared not touch, they stared down at her from behind strikingly white masks, their wicked beaks and painted lines reminding her of grotesque birds of prey. A panicky gasp escaped her and she whipped her sight back to the daiyoukai to find him lying lifelessly before her, the odd comfort of his hand missing from hers as it now lay emptily by his side. Skin ashen in color and clothing soaked with blood, no breaths seemed to heave his chest and she could scarcely avoid the notion that perhaps their ruse was instead a reality.

"Who are you?" a distinctly feminine voice demanded, its curt tone coming from the figure in the center and the miko turned to face her. Shorter than her companions, the imposing woman stood with her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Poorly concealed as they glinted gold in the cool light, a dangling cluster of bells hung from a slender needle in one of her bandaged hands. Noticing the telling drift of Kagome's eyes, she quickly tucked it away into her frayed sleeve and reasserted her command with a renewed sharpness. "Tell us who you are."

"I-I'm Kagome," she admitted, startled into a truthful answer. "I'm a priestess."

"We gathered that. Where are you from?"

"I'm from a village to the east."

"If that is true then you are far from home. I do not recognize you as a miko native to this region."

"No, it's several days passage by foot at the very least."

"Then why are you here and not tending your village?" the woman asked, her gravelly voice growing more suspicious and the figures flanking her on either side shifted in their stances with the silhouetted blades in their hands flashing silver.

"We were called out for a youkai extermination in another village. It had little protection, so when we heard of its dilemma, we traveled there and helped to defend its people from the attack."

"We?"

"Y-yes," the priestess answered nervously, realizing her mistake once it was made and also the honesty that was to continue with her quick-witted reply. "But I'm alone now. During the battle, he was taken from me. So once the last of the demons were subdued, I began my journey home."

"Hm," the woman snorted, finally finding satisfaction when Kagome looked away, the miko unable to hide the sincere loss that nuanced her expression.

"I was camped in the forest not far from here when I heard a commotion in the night and I came out to investigate," she continued after a weighty sigh, anticipating what they truthfully wished to know. "Before I could inspect much, I was attacked… by him. My arrow struck true, but despite the purification, his body still remains."

"He's dead?" she asked solemnly and the priestess did not miss the restlessness that faltered her once rigid posture. "Are you certain?"

"Without a pulse or breaths, I can't see how he could be otherwise. Considering that he was already wounded, my blow must have been what finished him. I just don't understand why he didn't turn to dust."

"It is a mystery," the woman remarked vaguely before gesturing with her empty hand to the dark red stain that soiled the miko's white coat. "Are you injured?"

"It's only a scratch. He surprised me, but I shot him before he could do more than that."

"Then count yourself lucky. I am certain there were others who were less fortunate."

With a subtle nod of her head toward each of them, her two guardians stepped in close and together they began to whisper harshly. The nerve-wracking tension lessening for the moment with their interrogation finished, she listened intently and heard a few sharp words spoken while the rest remained too hushed for her dull ears. Vague remarks about the unexpected gain brought by the death of their comrade and the mention of organs captured her interest, but soon it was the delicate needle still gripped in her hand that truly spoiled for Kagome's attention. Under their ever present watch even as they were embroiled in their secretive discussion, she cautiously leaned forward as if to inspect the fallen demon one last time, slowly slipping her occupied hand down to the loose soil in front of her knees. Concealed from their notice, she swept the dirt over the needle until it vanished from sight.

"Miko."

Startled by the abrasive bark delivered by the woman at her back, Kagome's shaky breath hitched in her throat as she dreaded the real possibility that her attempt to rid herself of evidence had been discovered. The quiet rustle of grass soon followed and a terrifying shadow fell over her. The chill night seemed icier in the eclipsed moonlight and she stared at the puffs of steam that she made with every shuddering exhale. Then she jumped when the bite of a bandaged hand grasped her shoulder, the bindings tattered and mottled with suspicious stains.

"You may go, priestess," the woman ordered in a noticeably gentler voice, "We will dispose of the remains. As members of a nearby shrine, we have unfortunately dealt with situations such as these in the past. You may leave without concern for your welfare or ours."

Releasing Kagome as she stepped toward the daiyoukai, a heavier set of hands then grabbed the miko's shoulders and lifted her effortlessly to her feet. Spying back, her gray sight met his repulsive mask; the hooked beak and stark paint enhancing the cold and cruel eyes that peered down at her through the two holes. With a light yet persuasive push, he shoved her toward the distant road, making it abundantly clear that her role there had ended and followed it with the flash of his blade to extinguish any doubt about the matter that she might consider.

Then as if starved scavengers lucking upon an unclaimed feast, their hunched figures closed in around the lifeless youkai lord. Withdrawing the long needle from her sleeve, the woman knelt down warily, holding it at the ready as her free hand hovered over him. Never quite touching, her crooked fingers meticulously traced over invisible pathways stretched over the length of his body until they finally settled upon the dark wound high on his waist. Head tilting to the side in perplexity, the woman's hand did not stray from the air above the soaked fabric as she shifted in her crouch to examine it at a better angle. Hard and foreign beneath her worn, black sandal, her gaze slipped down to the ground at her feet and discovered the glint of bronze. Half unearthed and pressed flat into the soft dirt by her shoe was a bloodied needle and she knew in that moment it was too late.

Glowing hot, crimson eyes flashed open and a low, murderous growl rumbled from the wakened demon's throat. With a deadly swipe, the masked woman's neck opened in a spray of red, the droplets splattering across him as she stumbled back in horror. Silver blades plunged, their sharpened points piercing only clods of earth and crushed shafts of grass as the daiyoukai swiftly slipped out of reach to tumble to a crouch a few paces away. Balanced on one knee, he glared over his shoulder at the two stunned men and snarled. Undaunted by the threat, they yanked out their swords and twirled them once to prove their unswerving confidence as they slowly approached.

Bloodied hand falling to the golden-hilted blade at his waist, Sesshoumaru felt the familiar grip of Bakusaiga. Yet as the allure of the powerful weapon was tempting, he quickly abandoned it for the sickly green vapors that scorched the air around his claws. He wanted to feel them dissolve with his own hands.

Staggering back unsteadily as she clasped her slashed throat, the dying woman collided with the miko who was watching on in paralyzing disbelief as the youkai lord melted through the mask of one man, his horrified shrieks shattering the night as the acid met his face. Knocked hard by the unexpected blow, Kagome toppled to the ground with the dead weight of the woman collapsing on top of her. Wet and terrifyingly human to her ears, the man gave another blood-curdling scream as the daiyoukai's corrosive nails sunk lower to carve out his chest. And then with his final, agonizing cry, unchecked desperation seized her. Frantically clawing and kicking, she scrambled out from beneath the limp body, her heart racing and tears stinging her eyes.

Nearly to her feet, a hand grabbed her by the wrist, fingers digging deep and jarring the priestess from the blind panic that had consumed her. Gurgling and bubbling as she gasped through the deep gashes of her shredded windpipe, the masked woman held her fast while slowly turning her hand over. Trembling as her life slowly bled out, she withdrew her other hand from the grisly wound at her neck to pull the mask from her face. The black ribbon undoing with a firm tug, it fell away to reveal ashen skin and the youthful features of a human woman with light gray eyes, a girl who looked no different than the miko did a few years ago. Dry lips crusted with bloody foam, she mouthed words, but even as no sound was uttered, the pain and regret that haunted her expression spoke for her instead. Then her hand dropped the mask to fumble along the ground by her side. Glimmering bronze, she retrieved the long needle with dangling bells that she had wielded earlier and placed it in Kagome's open palm. Once she finished, she closed the priestess' fingers around the delicate weapon and her hand fell away.

"Wait!" the miko cried out, gently shaking her shoulders, "Don't die. Who are you? Why are you doing this? I don't understand!" Blinking slowly, the woman's anguished expression lessened as the soothing release of unconsciousness loomed. Her approaching death then drove the priestess into action. She could save her. She could undo the decision she had made. She could make it right. She could find another way where no one had to die.

Biting hard into the cuff of her sleeve, Kagome tore a ragged strip of fabric from her coat and pressed it firmly against the deep wound, leaving one gaping slit open so that the woman could still breathe. Red blossoms blooming across a field of white, blood rapidly soaked through the cloth and the weary miko whimpered in frustration. Presented with the futility of applied pressure and the absent luxury of a needle and thread to stitch with, she desperately racked her brain for a solution until the weak grasp of the woman's hand found hers and pulled it away.

"You don't have to die!" the priestess begged when she shook her head faintly at her efforts. "We can find another way. There has to be one. One where no one dies and no one suffers. So, let me save you. I want to save you."

Arriving with a rapid string of sickening pops and snaps, a black boot suddenly crushed the woman's neck, shattering her spine under the grind its heel. With blank eyes and a tear-stained face, the last sigh of breath left her and Kagome's stunned stare slowly rose to seek its cause. More red than white, the demon lord towered over her, the burning crimson of his glare still lit as he watched her. The bitter odor of poison lingered around him and in his hand was the masked head of the last guardian, the sludge of his liquefied brains oozing from the base of his skull.

"Why did you do that?!" she cried out with overflowing anger as the numbing shock of his act thawed to free her rage. "I was going to save her! I wanted to save her! There could have been another way!"

"Move."

"W-why?"

"Move!" he commanded again, the cold and threatening tone of his voice chilling her through. Still kneeling, she pushed off of her knees and onto her feet before shakily rising to a stand. Taking a few hesitant steps back, the priestess watched him suspiciously as he removed his foot from the broken woman's throat. Along the side of the corpse he strode before stepping over the body to straddle it beneath him.

"What are you doing?"

"It would be in your best interest if you did not look," he warned, tossing the decapitated head away into the field as he sunk down to crouch over her. Tracing the line of her plummeting collar with a soiled nail, the daiyoukai paused at the dip between the swells of her breasts. Then with both hands, he ripped open the woman's coats, baring her pale, unblemished skin to the icy breath of autumn.

"No!" Kagome screamed, an unexpected surge of anger voicing her wrath as she lunged forward, "Don't you dare touch her!" Grabbing him fiercely by the shoulder, she pulled back hard, vainly grappling against his overwhelming strength.

"Release me or join her," he snarled with his white fangs flashing as he glared at the priestess over the same shoulder she gripped, his sure promise multiplied by his burning eyes and the jagged markings gracing his cheekbones. Growling one final time for good measure, he swiftly dissolved what resolve of hers that remained and her hand fell limply from him. Satisfied that there would be no further interruptions, his clawed finger pierced the cooling flesh, drawing a line of red along the contour below her ribs on the right side. Gaping slightly as he finished, the youkai lord slipped his fingers into the bloody wound and pulled it apart.

Bulbous and slick, the glossy sheens of her organs lay exposed in the dim light with the sour scent of her ruptured abdomen saturating the air. A wave of nausea flooded her with the pungent odor and she felt the acid in her stomach creep up her throat at the sight, the abhorrent notion of his intent forming in the shadows of her mind. Hand hovering over a large, dark organ, he deftly scooped up the liver next, severing the connecting tissue with a few precise sweeps of his claws. Carving away a chunk with the nails of his other hand, Sesshoumaru took the portion to his lips and the dread of the miko's unthinkable suspicions came into fruition as he bit down.


	4. Tracks in the Dust

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Four: Tracks in the Dust

Bile rushing up her throat, Kagome turned away, retching the contents of her stomach onto the ground. Tendrils of spit hanging from her quivering lip, she stood hunched over the puddle as she heaved, eyes burning and her hands gripping her shaky knees. As the nausea eventually passed, her head seemed impossibly light and her body strangely numb. Hypnotized, she stared blankly at the blurry and disgusting pool, wondering if it was her liquefied brains that had gushed from her mouth like they had dripped from the severed head of the unfortunate guardian Sesshoumaru had slain.

Taking a few awkward steps back, the priestess' eyes rose to the star-speckled sky above, desperate to immerse herself in anything but what surrounded her feet. Despite her efforts, the inescapable scents of death, vomit and poison haunted each intake of breath and the quiet, innocuous noises of chewing slipped unbidden into her ears. Shortly however, the sounds ceased and relief left her in a shivering sigh.

"We must depart," the daiyoukai spoke up coolly, the accustomed smoothness of his baritone stark after the primal roughness that had pervaded his voice not a moment earlier. "It will not be long before more will arrive and the same ruse will not work twice." Silence was her only reply as words seemed to fail her tongue, leaving him to accept a lack of objection as an accord.

The sensation of his strengthening youki prickling her skin, she felt him pass by, heading toward the road across the pasture. Her skyward gaze lowered to the long, silver mane that swayed behind his back as he walked and her clenched fists tightened. Knuckles turning white under the strain, the hard resistance of the needle still gripped in her hand soon stole her attention and she opened her palm to gaze at it. Spying up at the departing youkai lord and then back down to the weapon, the miko then stealthily slipped it into her sleeve, careful to not let the cluster of tiny bells dangling at its end to ring. Lending one final glance to the sandaled feet of the slain woman since she did not have the courage to let her sight drift further, the priestess then began to follow the demon through the field.

At the edge of the road not far from the wagon once belonging to the masked warriors, Sesshoumaru crouched to pick up the Staff of Heads. Delicately cradled in his hand, he examined the bloodied weapon. Then as he stood up, he slipped it easily beside the two swords secured in his belt, ignoring the smears of dark red it added to his already stained clothing.

The clinking of metal and nervous stamping of hooves sounding its presence, the agitated horse at the fore of the cart drew the youkai next. Tethered to a tree on the fringe of the dense forest, it pulled on the rein as he approached, tossing its head as it fought against the leather and wooden binds of its harness. Snaring it by its bridle, he pulled the rearing beast's head down to meet his, hot snorts from its flared nostrils ruffling his bangs. Taking in a long sniff, the daiyoukai absorbed the animal's unique, musty scent in one breath and then released it from his grasp.

Nervously, the miko watched on as he abandoned the dangerous, gnashing teeth the horse bared for its vulnerable flank, his sharp claws tracing along the sinewy muscles until they met the cumbersome straps. Expecting another scene of ruthless gore and consumption, Kagome winced as his hand rose, poised to gut the defenseless creature. Then his feared strike came, grazing short of drawing blood as it instead began to slice benignly at the joints of the harness until it fell free. Bucking wildly, the panicked animal kicked away what remained of its bonds and as the demon lord finished with a final deft swipe, the reins were severed. In a flurry of hooves, it bolted, galloping frantically back down the road. Snorting lightly in satisfaction, Sesshoumaru's eyes followed the fleeing animal until it disappeared beyond his sight.

"Why?" a dark voice asked behind him and the daiyoukai coolly spied over his shoulder at the priestess, the grim severity of her expression strikingly foreign compared to her usual affability.

"Why what, miko?"

"Why any of this?" she asked again, the iciness of her cold anger chilling her voice further. "I don't understand why any of this happened. It didn't have to end this way."

"Hn," he snorted, his mild incredulity a reply to her reasoning, "I have slain vast armies for less than what those humans have accomplished. Their ends could have only been met in one fashion, miko."

"Death and that's it? Death and… and what you did to her?"

"A priestess passes judgment on the acts of a demon. How unexpected."

With a slightly limping gait, Sesshoumaru walked away, passing the lonely wagon as he slowly traced the path the horse had taken. Behind him, Kagome remained cemented in place, her frustrated rage unsatisfied and his disparaging statement about her station only infuriating her more. Then in a quick, few steps, she caught up with him, the piercing glare of her gray eyes leveled undeniably on his forward looking face.

"Why did you say that? I have always done my best to be kind and understanding toward youkai. If anyone has blatantly slaughtered demons without thought or compassion, it's you. So, how dare you say that about me?"

"And yet you will always place humanity before youkai kind."

"What makes you believe that? What have I done that deserves that accusation? You talk about judgment when you're in fact the one judging me."

"How many demons have you slain with those arrows you carry, miko?"

"What?"

"How many demons have you slain?"

"I-I don't know," she tripped over her words, surprised by his pointed question.

"And how many humans have fallen by your hand?"

"That's different. I…"

"How many?"

"I've never shot a human before, if that's what you're getting at, but…"

"Countless youkai perished during Naraku's rise and fall. So many died in that time that our numbers have been remarkably diminished in the years that have passed since. How many do you believe were by your hand? By that strung length of wood you so proudly carry?"

"Those demons that I purified were attacking innocent people. I had to do it to save them. I didn't have a choice"

"And the evil humans you encountered in your travels were doing less? Did you have the choice to spare them? You may find my methods despicable and lacking compassion, but I can at least take solace in the notion that I do not discriminate between whom I slay and whom I do not. Be they youkai or human, they will all die if they disrespect me and my power."

A long silence fell between them as they traveled down the road. Soon they broached the rim of the forest; their path freckled with the shadows of the looming trees. A fork in the trail met them shortly and she noticed the wagon wheel tracks diverting to the left as the demon pressed on to the right. Accustomed to the greater experience of others to find the way, she continued to follow him, though her unspoken doubt remained ever present in her mind. If they were meaning to rescue Inuyasha and the daiyoukai's servants then why had they abandoned the clear tracks that would lead them to them?

After passing through countless more twists and splits of the snaking road, the youkai lord finally paused in mid-step, holding out a staying hand as he turned his head to catch distant sounds on the wind. Concern pressing behind Kagome's lips, he spun on his heel before she could utter a question and grasped her shoulders. Startled by his firm touch and still brimming with rage at his inhuman acts earlier, she nearly yelled a wrathful objection, but his stern look quelled her into continuing the silence. Then with a labored spring, he carried her as he leapt into the thick tangle of vegetation that grew alongside the road. Together they crouched down behind a fallen tree, his silver hair and their conspicuously white clothing hidden well by the decaying log and the bushes and ferns that surrounded it.

The stillness of a quiet night met them as they peered over the tree toward the road. Time passed emptily as they waited, leaving the miko to truly wonder if there was anything coming to be feared. Then in the space of a blink, a jagged shadow lighted onto the path and her uncertainty dissolved with a gasp of surprise. Wearing tattered, black clothing and a white, bird-like mask, the dark figure appeared identical to the warriors they had encountered earlier in the evening. Liquid in its movements, it vanished in a moment as it raced down the road. Not alone in its mission, it was swiftly pursued by a growing flock of similarly dressed men, their sleeves fluttering like charred pieces of paper as they sprinted by with their bandaged hands trailing behind them.

A terrifying crunch of leaves beside her wrenched the miko's attention away from the road as a multitude of causes flashed through her mind. What her harried sight discovered however was the one she had scarcely considered. Vigilance drained by lethargy, the demon lord slumped slowly as he knelt; drawn toward the log he leaned heavily against for support. Another rustle rose in the air as his bent knee then met the ground, the usually subtle sound deafening in the silent night. A fine layer of dust stirring as he slid to a stop, one figure abandoned the hunt of his brethren to stare directly into the woods, drawn by the suspect noises. Hand on the hilt of his blade; he confidently approached the edge until his feet met the blanket of leaves. Glancing between them, soundless pleas left her lips as the man lingered there, tempted to enter as he methodically poured over the undergrowth for a reason to do so.

Then in a moment, he was gone, joining the others in their nameless quest as he deserted his. The pale road finally empty once more, a shaky sigh left Kagome and she wearily spied over at the daiyoukai at her side.

"Sesshoumaru? Sesshoumaru, they're gone."

Roused by the sound of his name, the youkai lord rose carefully to his feet, veiling his fatigue with a sure stride as he left the concealing woods for the openness of the road. Continuing toward the direction that the masked men had originated from, he departed with the preoccupied priestess trailing behind him. Immersed in her thoughts, she stared at the footprint dappled path, wondering where the mysterious men were so urgently going that even suspicious stirrings in the woods were not enough to pause their steps for long. Then an odd impression in the dirt caught her eye. Made intermittent by the opposing wave of tracks left by the warriors, the fresh, horseshoe pattern left by the galloping gait of a horse revealed itself to her.

"That's why you freed the horse," she announced her realization, "We were never following the wagon that took Inuyasha."

"A panicked horse does not lie," he replied, "Even now its fear is pungent on the wind and safety to such a beast is its own stable. This way is far truer than deceptive lines in the dust."

"I thought you had spared it. After everything else tonight, I thought you had just let it live."

"Would you have preferred that I had eaten it like the woman?" he asked darkly, looking back at her with his eyes glimmering faintly in the moonlight. "That I had devoured its liver as well?"

Blood draining from her face, she stared in disbelief at the strange amusement that kinked his usually impassive expression. Then, Kagome felt the prickle of her hair rising on the back of her neck as his icy gaze continued to linger on her. His words spoken so coolly had faded the comfortable humanity of his appearance to reveal the brutal nature of the demon that simmered beneath the surface.

"You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

"Their deaths, I enjoyed. Her flavor however was not exceptional. A priestess' liver tastes no different than any other."

"So, it's true. She really was a miko."

"Without doubt."

"I wanted to save her."

"Save her?"

"I could have saved her."

"Hn," he sneered, "A slashed throat is not a scraped knee, miko. Measures of salves and herbs would have only prolonged her suffering and misery. What a strange notion of mercy you entertain."

"You have no right to talk about mercy!" she raged at him, seething anger roiling from her and tears streaking her cheeks as she stormed up to him. Pausing in his step, Sesshoumaru turned to face her wrath, welcoming the ferocity with a detached air. "You slashed her throat with your claws and you tortured the others with poison. And when you did it, you took pleasure in it. All of it."

"Yes, I did."

"And then you crushed her neck while I was trying to save her and, and carved her open like a butcher to eat her liver."

"Yes."

"Why? Why did you do it? She was a woman. You looked after little Rin for all that time as if she were your own daughter. You even fought Naraku in the end to save her life. How could you eat that woman after all of that? She could have been Rin. She could have been… me."

"Have you forgotten what I am?" he replied coldly as he leaned in close to her face, his cool breath brushing against her skin and the trance of his unnaturally golden eyes inescapable as they bound to hers. "I am a demon. I am a beast. And meat is meat. Nourishment is not conjured from nothingness and we all must feed to survive. Thus the blood that has been spilt from my wounds will be returned. So, be it theirs or yours, I care not, but you will not place the taboos of humanity upon me. I am not human and I never will be."

"You would do it again?"

"Would? I will do it again."

Inhaling abruptly and deliberately through his nose, the daiyoukai ended his verbal battle with the priestess to scent the air with a light sniff. Then he stood up slowly, his intense stare rising to seek the ribbon of road they had already traveled. Even as only shadowed emptiness lay before him, the growing odor of sweat and grime foretold that it would very swiftly be otherwise.

"They are returning," he warned, "We must--"

A dulcet jingle preceding a sharp pinch silenced his words and his disbelieving sight fell to the miko before him. Her lip bit and eyes averted to the dusty ground, Kagome could not return his shocked look as she slid the needle deeper into his side. Quickly, she finished pressing it all the way into his old wound, the warmth of his youki instantly evaporating as the slippery damp of pouring blood now slicked her fingers. Unfathomable rage narrowed his eyes as he finally understood her betrayal, but he could do nothing for it. With the heavy, rustling thump of silk and armor, he collapsed, the world turning black.


	5. The Mysterious Priestess

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Five: The Mysterious Priestess

Simple and elegant, the white on red design of a flower fluttered into her vision, bringing with it a pang of guilt to twist in her stomach. Despite the ache, her sight did not drift, avoiding him as she had avoided the corpse of the woman, afraid of the sinking shame her decisions had brought. Callous in temperament and unforgivable in intent, the daiyoukai had revealed the beast he was in his own words and she discovered then that she couldn't let it happen again. She couldn't watch another die at his hands. She couldn't watch another be devoured by his hunger. There is always another way.

Trembling and wet with his blood, she hastily wiped her fingers on her pant leg. As she rubbed, disturbing thoughts consumed her mind, reminding her about what she had done. About how easily the needle had pierced through his side. An hour ago, she had been too horrified to willingly stab him with an arrow and now she had done so with a needle and without a shred of hesitation. Tucking her hand into her sleeve, she felt for the knot of hair and rubbed the coarse strands between her fingers, seeking its reassurance.

Sleeves fluttering as they flew past her, the silhouettes of men filled the space emptied by the fallen demon lord. Puffs of dust rising, they slid to a stop across the loose dirt, surrounding both of them. Then she felt the iron vices of fingers grip her arms and shoulders. Several hands were laid upon her and with a force her slight frame would have no hope to contest, they dragged her back. At last, she was wrenched back into reality, black, tattered clothing meeting her sight as a wall of warriors separated her from Sesshoumaru.

"Wait!" Kagome cried out as they simultaneously drew their swords and she then found the strength to fight against their grasp. "There has to be a peaceful way!" As if swayed, a set of hands released her, but his intent was not as she had hoped. Stepping to her side, he unsheathed his short sword and swept it up to press the fine edge lightly across her throat. The priestess swallowed hard as her skin brushed against the metal and she objected no further as she watched them finally descend on the demon.

Eager to slice with the slightest provocation, two masked warriors crossed their blades over his vulnerable neck while two more stood beside his torso with the points of their swords resting on the youkai's chest just above the protection of his armor. Hands gripping their hilts, scattered sentinels waited a few paces away, keen to step in if summoned.

The sway of her hips betraying her gender, the delicate figure of a woman glided through their ranks and with an unspoken deference the men parted from her path as if she were a fish and they the stream. As she melted through the maze of jagged black, an intangible grace guided her silent steps until she came to stand beside the daiyoukai's body. A slender, bandaged hand then slipped into her sleeve and she quietly withdrew a bronze-handled needle. Ringing sweetly, a cluster of bells hung from the end and she adeptly flipped the weapon in her hand so that they jingled away from her. Now gripping it by the tapering point, the woman elegantly waved it through the air as if it were a wand and began to dance. With her dark clothing buoyant like a ribbon held by the ocean breeze, her rhythmic movements were strangely beautiful under the moonlight. A sensation of serenity washed over Kagome as she continued to watch, soothing away her tension and clearing her mind. Then gradually after each step and sway, the woman's exotic motions grew tighter as she slowly sank down to crouch beside him. So close that even the smallest gesture would strike him, the needle she had held so benignly turned in her hand and she suddenly pierced him in nearly the same place the miko had.

Consumed by anticipation, the hunched figures stared vacantly at the youkai lord. Yet despite the emotionless design of their garish masks, the miko sensed a nervous energy stiffening each man as they watched. Splayed fingers gliding over his torso and down his leg, the woman's hand hovered over Sesshoumaru until she could reach no further without standing up. As though she had discovered some measure of satisfaction, she finally nodded and retracted her hand.

"It's done," she assured those around her, her voice cool and imperturbable. "The demon's aura is sealed and it will not wake." Then the woman rose to her feet, her gaze lingering on the daiyoukai before leaving him for one of the warriors stationed at his head. "Your instincts have served us well this night, Daisuke. Suggesting that we return to investigate this wood has likely saved many lives and I will see to it that you reap a great reward."

"I have no need for such, my lady," the man politely refused and shifted in his stance to roughly nudge the youkai lord's face with his shoe, leaving a dusty imprint on his striped cheek. "Capturing this beast so that it may have the torture it has done revisited upon itself is satisfaction enough."

"If that is what you wish."

Pivoting lightly on her heel, the mysterious woman then turned to approach the restrained priestess. In a few steps, she soon stood confidently before the miko, examining her as she in turn was slowly looked over herself. With refined curves and more delicate lines, the mask the woman bore resembled those of the men, yet held a unique beauty that theirs did not. It was not the more effeminate features though that drew Kagome's attention, but the bands of red flowing down from the beak. Appearing like a savage bird that had just glutted itself on a carcass, she felt a chill breathe across her skin as she considered what sort of woman would hide behind such a sinister mask.

"Who are--" the woman began curtly.

"Are you going to kill him?" the priestess interrupted and then felt a sharp sting as the blade pressed against her throat bit in, drawing a thin line of blood. Gritting her teeth, she blinked back the tears that threatened to slip from her watering eyes and kept her steely expression from falling.

"Impertinent, aren't we?"

"Are you going to kill him?"

"Hm," the woman hummed and Kagome sensed her dark smile even as she could not see it. "How do you know that it is not already dead?"

"You can't capture a dead man and if you had killed him you would have said that you were planning on desecrating his body, not torturing it."

"Well thought."

"Are you going to kill him?"

"That depends on it and whether it can survive. Since I have answered your question, you can see that I am in a benevolent mood and I expect the same courtesy from you. I will ask again. Who are you?"

"My name is Kagome," the priestess boldly answered, surprised by the continuing confidence behind her voice, inwardly wondering what became of the anxiety and fear that had gripped her only moments before. Could it have been the dance? "I am a priestess from far to the east and that demon is my captive, not yours."

"Is that so? You speak many daring statements for one at the mercy of those she threatens. How is it your captive?"

"The hole in his chest is from my purification arrow and before you stabbed him with your needle, I had done so with mine. The measures you had just taken to subdue him were done on a youkai who was already vanquished by me. He is my captive."

"And you believe that you shall keep it? What is to stop me from simply taking it from you?"

"Your pride."

"My pride?"

"Yes. The intricate dance you performed earlier had a comforting quality to it. A purity and grace in its movements that only a shrine priestess can create."

"An easy deduction since it is simple for one miko to sense whether or not another shares her company. I am a priestess and what of it?"

"You're not just a priestess," Kagome added, the realization she had already made becoming clearer to her mind as she spoke. "That was a kagura dance and only a gifted priestess of the imperial court can perform it."

"Make your point," she threatened, her voice darkening dangerously.

"Several years ago, I once had an encounter with a fallen miko. Soiled by envy and greed, her divine power was dirtied by her selfish ambitions. You should know that I will not give up my claim over this demon no matter what you do or what you command your men to do. You haven't become a black miko yet, but I would think being the cause of an innocent priestess' death might tarnish you to the gods forever. Then all of those years of intense training will be for nothing and I don't believe you want that."

A taut silence swelled between them as the woman mulled over Kagome's words. The priestess however did not waver as she stared back at the dark eyes peering at her through the mask. Yet her mind wandered with the gravity of her point placed not upon the imperial priestess' shoulders but her own. Images of the dead miko floated through her thoughts, slowly wearing away the tranquility the dance had inspired in her. In no small way, she had contributed to the death of another priestess and the miko could only fear how the gods who imbued her with power would feel about her now.

Growing louder as it approached, the rhythmic clapping of hooves echoed through the woods. Dappled with designs of moonlight, a man astride a dark horse galloped toward them from where the warriors had originally come. With the dull scrape of horseshoes across dirt, the rider and his mount slid to a stop a stride short of colliding with the outermost sentinel. Turning away from Kagome, the woman gazed up at the messenger.

"Kioshi-sama," he called out, the beast beneath him white-eyed and stepping gingerly with the heavy scent of blood and demon in the air, "A wagon is on its way as you requested before we left. Have you discovered what became of Lady Nao?"

"In a moment, I shall," she assured and with a nod, her focus again found the miko, "Lady Kagome, if I am not mistaken, you spoke of a needle not a few breaths ago. Tell me where did you find such a weapon?"

"Lady Nao gave it to me before she died," the priestess admitted, the strength of her resolve crumbling slowly as she spoke. Even as she stated the truth, it felt heavy like a lie on her tongue. Whether Kioshi noticed or not, she didn't reveal it as she continued to listen intently and without interruption. "She gave it to me so that I would survive when she would not."

"She is dead?"

"Along with the two other men who accompanied her."

"How unfortunate," she remarked distantly, shock absent from her comment as if what was spoken was to be expected. Requiring nothing more, she returned her attention to the rider. "Ride ahead and assess the area. We must remove the traces of the barrier and of the battle prior to dawn and before any further unforeseen events occur. Once you deduce what is needed to clean up then ride back and procure the appropriate supplies. This demon has brought the end of too many lives and we need not add more to the tally."

"Yes, my lady."

"Daisuke, take two others and accompany him. Be careful. It may have more allies hidden nearby."

"Allies?" Kagome asked quietly, again drawing the woman's sight.

"Yes, this demon had allies. If it had not, then it would not be yours to claim and a fair number of us would not have died to catch it."

"I didn't see any allies."

"What survived of our first party, subdued them. Sadly, they are not of this beast's strength, but we will find a use for them."

Rattling as it rolled over the ruts of the poorly kept road; a wagon appeared at the bend. Clothed like the others, two men sat at its fore, lightly guiding the gray horse that drew the cart with the sparing use of a whip and rein. Soon they came to an easy stop beside the waiting warriors. With a slight nod from the imperial priestess, the earlier rider galloped away, heading toward the far-off field with the three others pursuing on foot.

"Load the demon and…" Kioshi ordered next before eyeing Kagome, the captured miko seemingly unfazed by the sword still pressed at her throat as she stared back. "Take her as well. I am certain Jianyu-sama will wish to meet her if only for the entertainment her situation brings."

The blade fell away with the command and the warrior quickly sheathed his weapon. Releasing her briefly, the men swiftly relieved priestess of her quiver and slung bow before pulling her arms snugly behind her back. So rough that with every sharp tug they drew a fresh wince, they then secured her tightly with rope at the elbows and wrists. Plucking at the knots to test their strength, satisfaction found them and with a firm nudge, she was directed toward the wagon.

His body tangled in a mess of cord and hands, she passed by the daiyoukai as she walked, noticing that he was already freed of his armor and weapons and was being bound in an intricate web of hemp rope with familiar, paper streamers dangling from it. Kioshi loomed over the hunched men as they worked, barking an occasional correction when their efforts faltered.

Distracted by the further sealing of the demon lord, the returning grip of hands on her upper arms surprised the priestess, but not nearly as much as the hands that slid down to her bottom. Before she could object, she was raised up into the air. Then the two aboard the wagon grabbed her under the shoulders and lifted her up the rest of the way. After a few staggered steps, she was dropped in a corner of the bed, her crumpled figure settled on the flat, wooden planks as she leaned against the gate.

Soon they finished and then he was rocked from side to side as they slid a sheet of heavy fabric underneath him. Grunting under the unexpected weight, the men toiled as they lifted the stretcher that now carried youkai lord's body. With unsteady, shuffling steps, they toted him to the cart while several others sprang up onto the bed to await their arrival. Heaving as well as they could, they dragged the demon onto the wagon. More climbed aboard once they were finished, filling the hold until there was no place left to stand or sit.

"Head for the camp," Kioshi commanded the driver, "I and the rest will follow shortly."

"Yes, my lady."

With a rough start that smoothed out as the wheels found the ruts, the laden cart rolled down the road with Kagome's uncertainty swelling with every tree they passed.


	6. The Abandoned Shrine

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Six: The Abandoned Shrine

Her head swaying gently with every jostle, Kagome sat leaning back against the gate of the rolling cart. Face slightly upturned, her half-opened eyes drifted over the jagged landscape of men who shared the wagon bed with her. Her fear of death abating once they took her prisoner, her mind was now freed to wander beyond the thoughts of her own preservation. Outwardly, she would regard them with the same aloof sentiment they granted her, but she secretly began to wonder who exactly they were.

Clothed in shredded black, the miko closely examined the dark warriors, realizing that their menacing presence had lost none of its quality as they crouched or sat around her. Their white masks providing equally ugly and terrifying imagery, had she not seen the fair face of the dying priestess earlier or heard the final screams of the men Sesshoumaru melted with acid, she would have denied the possibility of their humanity. Yet even as she stared at them now, she couldn't truly be sure that they were human, but instead shadowy apparitions of death that had ascended from hell to share her company.

The fluid movements and icy voice of the imperial-trained priestess however anchored Kagome's thoughts from further dissension. Ingrained in her from the rambling teachings of her grandfather to the expert training provided by Kaede, she had been exposed to a rich tapestry of culture and religion throughout her life. Despite how they might appear, these were human beings. Their purpose though failed her and the more she thought on it, the less sense it made. Warrior monks and shrine priestesses purified demons that they saw as enemies. They did not risk capturing them, especially ones as powerful and as deadly as Sesshoumaru.

Dwelling on the daiyoukai, her sight absently drifted to the crown of silver hair not far from her feet. Rocking with the moving wagon as far as his binds would permit, the youkai lord lay lifelessly under the wary watch of the guards. Doing her best not to draw notice, she concentrated on him. The tingle of youki that was uniquely his was absent to her senses and a pang of concern tightened in her chest. In her experience, even sleeping demons emit an aura and only dead ones emit none.

A rush of relief left Kagome in a quiet sigh when she saw a faint heave swell his chest. Without the hindrance of his armor to obscure it, she followed the steady rhythm of his breathing, relieved that the first breath was not a ploy on behalf of her eyes to ease her conscience. Guilt aside, she had done what she thought was right. Especially with the knowledge that the warriors were returning to find them, the priestess could only imagine the other less fortunate outcomes that could have occurred. Rescuing Inuyasha was her priority, but almost as important, she just didn't want to see anyone else die.

Sharp against the white silk, a strange arrangement of kanji that inked the daiyoukai's coat captured her eye next. The complex symbols were written in a circle that spiraled out between the lines of rope that secured his chest. Over his heart, an elegant ring was laced together by the single cord and at its center was the unmistakable character for heaven. Then as her sight lingered, the design created by the rope slowly revealed itself. The circle appeared to be the sun with its rays reaching out like waving tendrils of fire.

As sudden as it was opaque, the dark, heavy fabric of a guardian moved to obscure her view. Her gaze rising, she met the blank expression of his mask and the suspicious eyes that peered down at her from behind it. Slowly the man crouched, his accusing glare never releasing her even as he settled down onto the bed to separate her from the demon she watched.

The discomfort of his presence approaching its pitch, Kagome finally surrendered to his will, looking away to the star-dusted sky and silhouetted treetops. Feathery and delicate, the tips of conifers flowed by until the unexpected hard lines of a structure broke their irregular shapes. Indistinguishable under the dim, blue-gray light, but also the only semblance of civilization she had seen this deep in the forest, the miko wondered if it was this building hidden high on the hillside that they were traveling toward.

With a low bark, the driver slowed the wagon to a gradual stop beside a tall flight of stairs. Crafted from cement, the broad incline of stone steps rose straight up the small mountain to a gap of sky amid the trees. Red in color, a tall archway stood at the base. Constructed of two wide poles and topped with boards of wood that fanned up at the edges, the elegant torii gate marked the entrance of a Shinto shrine and Kagome's curiosity deepened.

Nimbly pouring over the gates, most of the men leapt down, spreading out to form a discouraging perimeter around the cart. Staying back as the others found their marks; a few grabbed the rear gate and lifted it up to free it from the bed. They then dropped it to the side and dragged out the stretcher, careful not to drop the demon lord cradled within it as they pulled it off of the wagon. Several on each side, they slowly toted him away, heading toward the first of many steps.

With a shambling gait, they passed under the tall arch. A ripple of blue magic wrinkled the air as they walked through the entrance, the glimmer dissipating swiftly once they were beyond it. Although it was a distinctly foreign energy to her senses, the miko was certain that it could only be a barrier.

Strong fingers finding her upper arm, Kagome was soon on her feet being pulled roughly to the end of the bed. The pangs of soreness in her tied wrists and elbows flooded her mind, but she bit down to stifle any whimpers as she walked. Guiding her to the edge, the hand then left her arm to give her an abrupt push and over the rim she fell. Meeting the arms of two men waiting below, she landed awkwardly on the ground as they caught her by each arm. A painful yelp she could not smother escaped the priestess as her foot twisted. Then without even a hint of concern, the men dragged her forward. Limping as fast as she could, she did her best to keep up so that she would not be pulled off her feet by their demanding strides.

Cracked cement and weather-worn edges under a blanket of pine needles, the disrepair of the stairs drew her notice and as she looked up, the peeling paint on the torii gate sealed her conclusion. Somehow it was fitting that such menacing holy men would take sanctuary in an abandoned shrine. As they approached the towering archway and the portal of unfamiliar magic that lay within it, an unexpected hesitation weighted Kagome's steps. However, uncertainty swiftly lost to their combined strength and she was thrust through the gate to meet the other side.

The eerie silence of the night was replaced with the cacophony of voices and sounds rising from beyond the crest of the stairs. Encouraged with another brusque shove, the miko stumbled forward and resumed her climb. Up the steps she went, her restraints foiling her balance as she struggled to keep from tipping over and tumbling back down the way she had come. The men though, were quick to right her every time she veered and soon they reached the summit.

Lit by the amber glows of dozens of fires, a sprawling camp greeted Kagome's sight as she stepped onto the stone yard surrounding the shrine. Blending from old to new, a wide assortment of buildings and shelters spread out before her and at their center stood a weathered pagoda reaching high toward the midnight sky. Along the fringes of the ancient shrine, clusters of tents were erected with the welcoming warmth of the many hearths separating them. Reflecting firelight and shadow but no shade in between, she spotted the profiles of men as they relaxed around the flames, cooking their meals or sharing a drink. Grand adventures mingling with lewd jokes, the overlapping din of their conversations seemed to prove their humanity almost as well as their revealed faces as they sat about to eat their food or down their sake.

With another push, the priestess' escort directed her toward a large, wooden building. Newer than the structures native to the shrine, it was plain and sturdy, constructed of thick beams and lacking windows. On one side however, there were wide gaps in the heavy walls, each empty space filled with interlocking wood bars. Her lame stride hitching, she swiftly understood where they planned to take her.

"I wish to speak with your leader. With Jianyu," Kagome spoke up as they then began to drag her toward the prison, thwarted little by her refusal to walk on her own. "I want peace and have no intention to fight with him. I simply want to talk."

Wordlessly, they continued on, ignoring her pleas. Frustration and anger swelled in the miko, intensifying with each sharp ache they wrenched from her sore arms as they yanked her forward on each side.

"Look here," she growled furiously, "I can see that this was once a great shrine and I doubt the Shinto gods still being honored here would look kindly on you two for abusing a priestess like you are. What sort of warrior monks are you?"

"Ha," one guard finally snickered, his sinister voice affected by an unexpected accent, one that reminded her of mainland China. "You speak as if we have regard for your Shinto gods."

"You're not monks or priests?"

"Who we are is none of your concern and a silent tongue will ensure your survival this night better than one that flaps."

Rare was a threat that she would heed, but the cold conviction that laced his promise effectively smothered her defiance. With some reluctance, she ceased to fight against their direction and instead began to walk on her own toward the prison.

Under the suspicious glares of the sentries who loitered there, the priestess and the men who escorted her approached the nearest cell. Through the wood bars, she peered into the dark room, unable to see even the ground beyond a step or two in. Overcome with uneasiness, she then rubbed her fingers together; imagining the feel of Inuyasha's lock of hair in her hand when she couldn't dip into her sleeve for it instead. She would find him and she would save him. No matter what happens, she couldn't forget that.

Releasing her, one man stepped away to open the gate while the other squeezed her arm tighter lest she had any ideas of escape. She however gave him no further cause for alarm and soon the vice of his grip lessened to a comfortable firmness. The door swung open, but before they could shove her in, a voice called out behind them. Pivoting slightly to see who beckoned, the guards looked up to find Kioshi and several other warriors who had arrived.

"Wait," the masked priestess demanded in her typically cool and composed tone. Her billowing sleeves and pant legs fluttering, she walked away from her entourage and toward them, each movement carrying the same indescribable elegance, like a flame dancing on the wick of a candle.

"Kioshi-sama," the man at Kagome's arm answered, "Do you require something of us?"

"Yes," she replied as she finished crossing the yard to stand before them. "Her."

"Her?"

"As a Shinto priestess, she is our guest and we would be ill hosts if we keep her in such filthy quarters and in the company of our enemies."

"Of course, my lady. Where do you wish us to escort her?"

"Nowhere. I shall accept her as my responsibility. You both may be dismissed once you sever her bonds."

"Are you certain that you wish for her to be freed? Perhaps we should--"

"Do you doubt my authority?" she interrupted abruptly and the men shifted nervously under her pointed question.

"No, we would not even think it."

"Then release her."

With a few tugs on the loops and ends, the ropes were loosened and slipped easily off of the priestess' arms. Relishing every bit of pleasure that came with their reprimand, Kagome wrenched away from the hands they had still laid upon her and joined the imperial miko's side. Not willing to invite any more fury upon themselves, the men were quick to stride away, eager to bask beside the welcoming fires of the outmost tents rather than under the icy glare of their priestess. A pained hiss leaving her lips, Kagome's eyes soon left their departing backs to examine the enflamed skin and deep imprints that marked her elbows and wrists. Her fingers ghosted over the patterns left by the ropes and with a tender touch she began to massage the abused flesh. When she looked up however, the masked miko had already begun to walk away, leaving her at the mercy of the unsavory guards loitering about the prison.

"Thank you," Kagome spoke up after she caught up; realizing swiftly that keeping company with Kioshi was preferable to a camp of men who seemingly held no reverence for priestesses or the gods they honored.

"Your gratitude is misplaced," she replied, "It is after all not my policy that spares you. Do understand that if it were my decision to make, you would be in a prison cell and not an empty one."

"Then if I shouldn't thank you, I would like to thank whoever is responsible."

"You will have your opportunity shortly. Jianyu-sama has requested your presence. We shall see if you disappoint him."

More questions pressed at her lips as her curiosity begged to be sated, however the priestess remained quiet. The fortune of their leader's interest was one she couldn't do without and no matter what, she wouldn't jeopardize it. She would save Inuyasha and chance permitting, Sesshoumaru as well. So, she bit her tongue and wordlessly followed the imperial miko through the narrow spaces between the buildings as they headed toward the towering pagoda still quite visible over the thatch rooftops.


	7. The Man Behind the Masks

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Seven: The Man Behind the Masks

Masks turning to face them, the attentive guards stationed around the pagoda watched the mikos as they approached. One fluid and the other hampered by a limp, the men followed each stride as they passed. The imperial priestess lent them no notice as well as the other who was more preoccupied with the massive building itself than with those who loitered around its foundation. Backlit by the moon, the four-tiered tower cast its shadow over the ladies with its even number of floors standing out more than the elaborately carved wood of its curling eaves. Decay brought by time and neglect, its beauty had rotted over the years and the men who now occupied it seemed not to care to repair it to its former glory.

The heavily-guarded entrance soon before them, a scene of repulsive demons being impaled by the spears of indifferent warriors played out on the double doors. Swallowing down, Kagome stared at the grisly battle etched into the wood as Kioshi signaled for one of the guards. Stepping forward to grasp the handle, the beckoned man slid one of the heavy doors to the side along its track to reveal a dark room lit in rare places by firelight.

Through the gap, the priestesses entered the building, the entrance closing behind them once they were over the threshold. While tall in height, it was massive in length and width and they began to walk across the large room. Elegant and simple, they passed by delicate, silhouetted pillars that stood throughout the space, supporting the immense weight of the stories above. With each step, the dull, wood floor clapped, its expertly molded boards unpolished, but free of dust and debris. Dark, rust-colored stains marked their path, the smeared blotches appearing neither old nor fresh. Heavy and thick as they breathed it in, the stale scent of oil filled their lungs and spaced along the walls were the old lamps that proved the source. Reflecting the flickering, amber light were several statues, each tarnished and stained.

Out of place beside the ancient ones, they soon approached the end of the room to discover a set of newer walls that jutted out from one of the back corners and came together to form a smaller space. Pushing aside the sliding door, Kioshi entered the makeshift room with Kagome cautiously following behind. Larger than it seemed, the tidy area was well organized even without furniture to stow its contents. Lining the walls were neat piles of black clothing and folded futons. Bending down, the masked priestess sorted through the stacks and gathered a coat and a pair of pants.

"Wear these," Kioshi ordered after she stood up, holding out what she had selected.

"Why?" the apprehensive miko replied, making no effort to accept the gift presented to her.

"You cannot be heard by Lord Jianyu when you are soaked in blood. If your desire is still to have an audience with him then I suggest you depart from this childishness and disrobe."

Gray eyes fixed on the demanding woman whose will she reluctantly surrendered to; Kagome began to undo the ties of her hakama. Thumbs hooking into the waist, she pulled them down over her hips and let them drop naturally to her ankles. Then she stepped out of the pooled fabric and gently kicked it to the side. Draped loosely, her coats hung over her body and with a shrug, they fell easily from her shoulders.

Nude but for the fabric wrapped across her breasts and the strip of silk concealing her modestly below the waist, the exposed priestess snatched away the proffered clothing and began to redress. With a soft growl of disapproval, Kioshi stepped away to kneel before a collection of bowls and tubs. Choosing a small basin among the many, she took a ceramic pitcher and filled it with water.

"Cleanse yourself first," she ordered, gesturing to the smears of blood that had seeped through the miko's coats to stain her chest. Scowling but compliant, Kagome took off the thin undercoat that she had slipped into and accepted the wash bin along with the remnants of an old sea sponge to scrub with. Wisps of red curled and dissolved in the bowl as she dipped into it each time, slowly dyeing the cool water rouge. With her attention on the bundles of herbs hanging on the far wall, the imperial miko gave her as much privacy as she would permit and soon Kagome finished her bath, the gore of the evening's spilt blood replaced with unblemished, porcelain skin.

A quiet sigh of relief escaped her with its vanishing and the priestess wrapped her nakedness with her new coats. Soon she was fully dressed and cinching the ties of her pants. Black and worn but clean, her fresh attire reflected that of the warriors who had captured her. Swathed in it, she shifted uncomfortably, wondering if her individuality would fade like it had with them.

Ringing brightly, the clinking of bottles startled Kagome from her thoughts as Kioshi busily sorted through her assorted medicines before settling on a particular jar. Considering it for a moment, she then grabbed a roll of mottled bandages from a box beside it.

"Come here and sit," she barked and Kagome did as she was told. Grimacing, she knelt down slowly before leaning back far enough to tip softly onto her bottom. With the brisk manner that suggested she had seen far worse, Kioshi firmly took her presented foot by the heel and looked over the swollen ankle. Satisfied by what she saw, she then dipped her fingers into the muddled red paste in the jar and proceeded to rub it all over the afflicted joint. Smelling of cool mint laced with the spicy scents of herbs and the unusual briny tones of iron, the strange salve tingled as it warmed. As precise as she was quick, the masked priestess tightly bound bandages over the ankle, taking note that it had already begun to heal.

"What is that?" Kagome asked in wonderment, the taut bandages loosening with each passing moment as the swelling subsided.

"An ointment," she answered. "Fresh this evening, but made from impure ingredients. It works all the same however. Your ankle shall impair you no further."

"Impure or not, it's still amazing. What's it made from?"

"As of right now, it is not of your concern," Kioshi replied firmly and rose up to stand. "Come. Lord Jianyu is not partial to waiting."

Rising to a crouch and then fully to her feet, Kagome watched the miko wipe the excess medicine from her fingers, the delicate bandages that wrapped them discolored further by the oily salve. Brusque and cold in manner yet kind enough to tend her sore ankle, the confused priestess wondered again about what sort of woman shared her company. Graceful and skilled, she truly was a miko worth revering, but embodied by her black, tattered clothing and terrifying mask, a mysterious darkness dyed her purity with shadow.

"Move," an abrupt order sounded and Kagome stepped quickly to the door where Kioshi waited. Sliding it shut behind them, the imperial priestess escorted her guest toward the opposing corner along the back of the immense room. In a recess, a flight of stairs led to the next story and Kioshi began to climb them.

"May I ask a question?" Kagome spoke up and the ascending miko paused in her step.

"You may ask, but you may or may not receive an answer."

"Why do all of you wear this clothing? For the men perhaps it suits them, but you are a priestess. It seems too dark for someone empowered by the gods."

"It is because we are empowered by the gods that we choose to wear these robes and not the other way around, miko. We are the raptors that exact the punishment they have demanded and so we dress for our roles."

"Punishment?"

"It is not my place to elaborate," she answered, continuing up the stairs. "I have spoken more than I care to. Your ankle should no longer impede you, so I will not tolerate any further delays."

Without further comment, Kagome followed the woman. Curious eyes drifting about the narrow stairwell, she noticed the strange, brown stains that blemished the floor of the room below continued to do so up the creaking steps.

Reaching the crest, an overpowering mix of scents hung in the air like a thick, fog. A youthful tan beside the darker, ancient timbers, a newly erected wall separated the stairwell from the second floor and at its center was a large, heavy door. Amber lamplight graying in the haze, dozens of pots lined the floors with hidden sticks of incense protruding from their rims. Tips glowing as they burned, dots of orange cut through the smoke and the priestesses carefully waded through them.

Up the next flight they climbed and were met with a similar scene once they arrived at the summit. The taste of sweet ash coated Kagome's mouth as she breathed in the heavy air. Beside the bland flavor of cinders, a new question now tickled her tongue, but she kept it leashed as she saved her curiosity for the man they had promised to deliver her to.

Again they ascended and after the final flight, they stood in an entryway of rice paper walls with a single sliding door midway along it. The once dull floor and its odd stains were replaced with a polished reflection. Her sandals striking cleanly as she strode, Kioshi approached the door. Then with a light rap, she knocked.

"Jianyu-sama," she called out politely.

"Yes, Lady Kioshi," a genial voice answered, his words muffled but audible.

"I have brought the miko as you requested."

"Very good. You may enter."

After slipping off her sandals, the masked priestess grasped the half-moon handle and slid the door open. As it parted, a rush of cool air fanned over them and with Kagome close behind, together they stepped through. Piled high to form peaks and ranges, stacks of books and scrolls were littered along the walls and across the floor. Breathing in the musty scents of old paper and ink, Kagome looked over the unstable towers of literature as Kioshi led her through the meandering maze. Woodblock prints and tattered scrolls beside hard-bound books and manuscripts, prose from dozens of languages both eastern and western were scrawled on parchment, calf leather and papyrus. She had found herself in a vast library that would not know its equal until the modern era she had left behind. Set on metal plates upon the highest stacks, flickering lamps burned to guide their way and after a few more turns, the room opened up.

At the center was an exquisite, oriental rug and upon its swirls of burgundy and gold was a low, black lacquered desk with a poised man seated behind it. Scattered pages both filled and starkly blank were laid out before him and to his right was an expensive, onyx inkwell that was rimmed in gold. Held delicately in his hand was a calligraphy brush and as they approached, he busily penned kanji with exact precision.

A persuasive tug pulled at Kagome's sleeve and she looked to her side to seek its cause. With chocolate brown eyes, full lips and the pitted roughness of a healed burn on her left cheek, she found a young, once beautiful woman with a stern expression and it took a perplexed moment for her to realize that she was staring at Kioshi. Her mask set neatly on the carpet, imperial priestess gave her stunned ward another downward yank until the meaning of her wordless demand overcame Kagome's surprise. Gracefully collapsing onto their knees, both women settled onto the rug in front of the indifferent man and awaited his attention.

"From what has been told, you have brought me quite an extraordinary guest, Lady Kioshi," he eventually spoke up, his gaze veering nowhere but on his writing. A heavy accent edged his drawn out words, again reminding Kagome of mainland China. "I am Jianyu and I must ask you honorable miko, what is your name?"

"Kagome."

"How unusual. I do not believe I have met a maiden by that name until now."

"No, it's not very common."

"So it would seem," he remarked warmly and set his brush down across the inkwell. Draped in the smooth sheen of luxurious silk, he wore a long, white yukata robe trimmed with embroidered gold that shimmered along the fringes like a gentle flame. Stark against the fabric, a thick braid of black hair trailed over his shoulder to pool on the carpet beside him and around his head below his ears; his scalp was neatly shaved to the skin. As black as the pupils at their centers, his eyes finally rose to meet the priestesses and he brandished a friendly smile. "And neither are the noble deeds you have committed this night common. To think that a single priestess still embraced by youth would succeed where countless armies of battle-hardened warriors would fail and die."

"There was nothing noble about it. I just didn't want anyone else to die."

"By your words, there is truthfully some nobility in your vanquishing of the demon. After all, a priestess and a monk perished this evening along with ten other men. Further lives were spared by your unmatched bravery and nothing else."

"Why were they sent into harm's way to begin with? A daiyoukai of his strength should be avoided and not fought. Those people were placed in unnecessary danger and were victims of what they were ordered to do by you and not by him."

"Unnecessary danger," he repeated, chuckling softly at her uninhibited tongue and the boldness it spoke. "Aside from this obstinate, old man and the scowling priestess beside you, please look around this room, miko and tell me what you see."

"Stacks of books and scrolls from all over the world."

"A very astute observation," he commented with a facetious air, inviting an unamused glare from her. "I am a well-traveled man who has seen and experienced much of this earth and my greatest indulgence is the literature that overflows from it. To think of the difficult languages I have mastered to quench my thirst to read and understand. In my collection, I have one story that shall make the unnecessary danger you have quoted into one of such poetic eloquence that it cannot be denied. That it will drive many to be willing to sacrifice their lives to accomplish its end. Do you know the tale of Prometheus, miko?"

In the veiled recesses of her mind, the foreign name haunted her memory, reminding her of fluorescent lighting and the soft rustling of notebook paper. However, her occasional lessons on world literature were too far in the past and left her answer empty but for a few truths.

"It's an ancient, European myth, isn't it?"

"Ah," he answered, his grin broadening. "Please, forgive my earlier impoliteness. That you would know it to be western in origin and ancient at that proves that you are far more educated than I judged you to be and I fear I have done you an injustice in assuming otherwise. Yes, the story of Prometheus originates from Europe as you suspect and more specifically from the once great, conquering nation of Greece.

"According to their legends, a primal clan of deities once governed their earth and their oceans. Called Titans, they were simple gods, powerful to be certain but primitive all the same. Unable to attain true grace where their progeny would, they were soon conquered and banished to the furthest depths of hell for their impurity. However, not all were imprisoned as those who vowed to serve the new virtuous gods were permitted to stay.

"Prometheus was one such Titan who had eluded isolation under the guise that he would honor the Olympians, but his intent was not as noble as it seemed. With a foolhardy trick, he stole fire from the heavens and delivered it to the humans of the land. This brave act which would seem at first generous for the people would instead exchange an equal cost from them as well, because with the gift of fire they would lose the easy means of life granted to them by the gods. The time of a day's toil yielding a year's fruit ended when their hearths burned with flame.

"Zeus, the greatest of the gods, sought out Prometheus in his wrath and exacted a punishment upon the defiant deity. Binding him to a rock deep in the mountains, he chained Prometheus and then called upon an eagle. The raptor flew down and ripped open the defenseless Titan's belly, devouring his liver. Screams of horror and agony escaped him as the raptor fed until nothing of his liver remained. Sated, the bird left in the evening and then as the night passed, Prometheus' liver became whole once more. In the morning, the eagle returned and tore him open again to consume the regenerated organ. And so the years passed as each day the bird ate and each night he healed, his persisting immortality becoming his bane."

As his telling of the legend finished, an expected silence passed as Kagome absorbed his story and he patiently awaited her thoughts. As he had recited it, the haze filling her schoolgirl memory lifted so that by its end she would anticipate his every word.

"I remember it now," she finally spoke up, "It's a well-shared story where I was educated, but there is something that I don't understand. How is it that a foreign myth of a deceased religion would have any bearing upon us as we seek shelter in an old, Shinto shrine among monks and priestesses? It seems as dishonorable as the grime that sullies the walls of this pagoda."

"I do not purport to be a religious man, Lady Kagome. As a former merchant who has sailed on nearly every sea, I have seen and committed enough wicked acts to deprive me of any pleasant afterlife by our gods. But when I learned of this tale, I saw in it a way to make amends for the transgressions of my life. A parallel that would permit us to act as avengers against the evils who defy the gods and to ease the lives of the victims they make. Once I explain further, I will offer to you the opportunity to join us and I shall hope you will not disappoint."


	8. For Humanity

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Eight: For Humanity

"The opportunity to join you?" Kagome said, her thin eyebrows furrowing.

"Yes," Jianyu replied, "As you know, we lost several this evening including a monk and a priestess. A talented miko such as you would be an asset better serving our cause rather than being wasted in what lonely, rural shrine you have come from."

"I am proud of where I come from. I won't be persuaded otherwise."

"Indeed, I am mistaken yet again," he remarked, his tone strangely confident despite her adamant refusal. "Then perhaps our meeting should adjourn. Lady Kioshi will escort you out now and you may return to your life as it once was. However, do us and yourself the honor of forgetting our encounter this night. I would not care to see a fine, young priestess with great potential a victim of misfortune."

A hand touching her shoulder, the imperial miko had already risen, ready to do as her leader had directed. Then she gave a light but firm tap when Kagome remained seated, not quite believing the meeting was over.

"Wa-wait," she blurted out to the man who had since picked up his calligraphy brush. "I'll listen to your offer. I'm just a bit proud of my independence and where I come from. Maybe too proud sometimes. Please forgive me and continue."

Delicately, he replaced the brush across the inkwell, unsurprised by her swift reversal of thought.

"Hmm," he hummed, stroking his cleanly shaven chin as if in deep reflection. Then a smirk kinked his smile to one side, "Very well. We shall continue. Lady Kioshi?"

"Yes, Jianyu-sama," the miko answered, her hand leaving Kagome's shoulder.

"Bring us some tea, would you?"

"Now, my lord?"

"Yes."

"As you wish."

With her moment of hesitation passed, she was soon masked and sweeping around the stacks of literature to leave the room. Then with the loud clap of rice paper doors sealing, a shiver coursed through Kagome's body. His mysterious intents evoking fear more than curiosity, she swiftly realized that she was now completely alone and thus at his mercy. Not that she believed Kioshi would protect her even if she was present.

"There is no need for worry, miko," he stated boredly, accurately reading the concern etched on her face. "I have no nefarious designs upon your person. It would be… uncivilized."

Relaxing somewhat with his assurances, she had little choice but to trust his word.

"Like I have spoken previously," he continued, "I am looking to make amends for the path I have chosen and that is to deal with the earthly demons whose existence angers the gods we worship."

"Youkai."

"Yes."

"All youkai?"

"Every single one."

"I don't believe that," she argued, her hands tightening into fists, "There are good ones who don't harm anyone but help instead. How could they anger anyone, especially the gods?"

"A naïve answer you give, Lady Kagome," he chided gently. "A priestess should understand this better than anyone, after all who grants you the powers that flow from your arrows?"

"I know that the gods do, but--"

"And what do those powers do? They purify what they pierce and they pierce demons. You could blindly loose one hundred purification arrows in any direction. They may strike trees, stones, animals and perhaps an unfortunate human, but they will only turn youkai to ash. If only demons can be cleansed then they are the filth of this world."

"I don't believe that."

"But even as you deny it, you know it to be the truth unless you have a more accurate explanation?"

Kagome swallowed hard, her face paling.

"Hn," he snorted, triumph glimmering in his dark eyes.

"So youkai can be purified and perhaps the gods don't hold them in the highest graces, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve to live. That you have any right to condemn them as filth."

"No, they condemn themselves," Jianyu replied coolly. "As you've traveled, you've no doubt seen what they've done to vulnerable villages and farmlands. Not but a few years ago there were times when the sky was blotted with writhing masses of them. Over the course of a single year, dozens of towns were burnt from this earth and hundreds of innocents died."

"That won't happen again. The one who was responsible was defeated."

"A fortune was its demise to be sure, but the death of one great evil does not pardon the many others who continue to slaughter even this night. They have all killed humans and if they have not, they will. Demons hunt us and then they kill us. And once we are limp in their claws, they consume us. To them we are nourishment and the ease that our lives could be is robbed from us by their existence. If not through our deaths but through the fear of the death they could bring."

Cold and callous, a chill iced his voice as he spoke and despite her fervent belief to the contrary, Kagome was speechless. In the pit of her stomach, she could feel her objections churning in the acid, being dissolved not by the strength of his argument, but by the indisputable power his presence demanded. No matter how she criticized or debated his person or point, the authority he wielded never surged or lessened. Instead it simply persisted, undeterred as it whittled away at her resolve to allow his reasoning to filter through. He was a terrifying man.

"So, you're going to kill them and ease humanity's suffering?" she finally spoke up. "Purify them away so that we don't have to live in fear or struggle through life when they make orphans of us?"

"It is not quite that simple, dear miko. We intend to soothe the lives of their victims not just through peace of mind. Not when traditional Chinese medicines can do so much more."

"Traditional medicine? You mean Kampo?"

"Yes," he agreed, smiling broadly again, "Kampo would be the Japanese equivalent."

"But doesn't that usually involve acupuncture and mixes of herbs? What do youkai have to do…"

Trailing off, her words slowed and quieted as she finished, the memories of bronze-handled needles seizing her thoughts. Without the misleading clusters of bells that dangled from their ends, the weapons that both priestesses had wielded were now easily recognizable as acupuncture needles.

"Usually they are made of such simple ingredients," he admitted, ignoring her faltering voice, "Again, you are a priestess, so the healing arts should be familiar to you. However, limiting one's resources to just plants is foolish when animals provide a multitude of uses as well. Dried scorpions, snakes, turtle shells and so on can contribute greatly to the welfare of a person's mind and body. They can cure disease, mend broken bones and even sow the seeds of fertility in a barren womb."

Dampening her skin, a wet wave of dread washed over Kagome.

"What do youkai have to do with medicine?" she asked; the words sour like bile in her mouth.

"You already know the answer, do you not?"

"I don't… I--"

"You know that the beasts who once consumed us are now the consumed. Raw, dried, boiled and cooked, the organs of their bodies cleanse, heal and balance ours in ways that make their natural counterparts seem as dull as diluted tea."

"But, they're people," she said almost desperately, her chest tightening as she struggled to breathe.

"Are they?"

"They speak. They wear clothes. They fall in love with humans. Doesn't that mean they're more than just beasts? More than animals for the slaughter?"

"Hn," he snorted, casually waving a dismissive hand, "Disguises and nothing more. The demon you captured this evening spoke and wore clothing. It even at one time cared for the welfare of a human child. So human-like are these traits and yet what did it do to Lady Nao? Tell me that."

Biting her lip anxiously, a lie tore at her throat, frantic to be spoken over the truth. Thick and heavy, she instead swallowed it down. He already knew the answer. He always knew the answer.

"He… He killed her and ate her liver."

"A monster who has slain hundreds for its own selfish desires will now save just as many. How poetic it is that Prometheus is devoured so that we may all thrive. Now that you know our intentions, I will now hear your decision. Join us, Lady Kagome and save hundreds. Your strength and skill are greatly needed."

"I… I can't. I mean I have to--," she mumbled and without realizing it, she had risen to her feet. "I need to…"

Then without another word, she fled. The thumping patter of her socked feet sounding her escape, she wove through the piles of books toward the rice paper door. Gliding open as she arrived, Kioshi stood at the entrance with a bamboo tray in her hands, balancing an elegant, ceramic tea set on top of it. Kagome bumped into her as she brushed past, leaving her sandals behind as she sprinted for the stairs.

With a loud clatter, the priestess dropped the tray and made her way toward Jianyu, knocking several stacks of books over as she ran.

"Jianyu-sama?!" she called out, sliding around the last heap of scrolls before her feet met the rug.

"I am fine, Lady Kioshi," he answered kindly and she sighed in relief between her rapid breaths.

"What happened, my lord?"

Picking it up lightly, he examined his calligraphy brush and admired the ease with which it did as he desired.

"It seems she has some reservations."

"May I speak my opinion?"

"Of course."

"I do not care for her. She is a suspicious woman. There are rumors of a miko who consorts with youkai and I believe she is the one. How else would she keep company with a dangerous beast like that and not share Lady Nao's fate? She was not its captive. The demon trusted her."

"Perhaps," he remarked, "But if she is the one you speak of, then her befriending nature will reap more than what fifty trained men could provide. Your warning is heeded however. Follow her and see what she does. If by dawn she is not persuaded to join our ranks, you know what to do."

"As you wish, my lord," Kioshi said and bent over to retrieve her mask before tying it securely to her face. After a polite bow, she pivoted gracefully on the ball of her foot and turned toward the exit.

"And, miko. If she should attempt to escape before then…"

She paused.

"I understand, Jianyu-sama."

Then her steps echoed, light in sound and heavy with purpose as she strode away, leaving the man alone to his art.

OOOOOOOOOO

Chilling her moist skin, the bracing autumn night rushed in as Kagome yanked the heavy door of the pagoda down its track. Then over the threshold she sprang, leaving the entrance wide open as she bolted out into the yard. From behind their raptorial masks, the guards watched her run, the temptation to catch her strong, but without the orders to do so, they dared not move.

Clean and crisp, she gulped down the frigid air as she pumped her legs, desperate to purge the sickeningly sweet smell of incense from her nose and palette. The musty scent of old books and ink clung as well and when her mind dwelled on the significant odors that wafted throughout the pagoda, she thought of his story and the bile in her stomach churned. How many youkai had been regarded as filth and had died to serve their cause? How many had been butchered and bottled as sacrifices for the wellbeing of humanity?

The urge to vomit swelled again and as the priestess attempted to quell it, the gravel slipped from beneath her feet. First, landing hard on her bottom, she tumbled over the ground before sliding to a stop. Dirt smeared across her sweat-glossed face, she slowly picked herself up to sit. As she moved, flashes of sharp pain stung her knees and hands. She sought out her palms and found them torn with bloody scrapes and peppered with flecks of debris. The throbbing aches of her fall cleared her mind and the shock and terror inspired by Jianyu and his mission numbed as a fresh fear dominated her thoughts. She had to find them, Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru. She had to find them and save them.

Clambering to her feet, Kagome limped toward the only place she knew to look, the well-fortified prison near the entrance of the shrine. Slowly lessening as she walked, the tenderness in her abused joints relaxed away as she made her way toward the long, wooden building. The prison guards eyed her warily as she approached, whispering their concern to each other, wondering whether or not Lady Kioshi intended their guest to be roaming free. The priestess straightened up and projected an air of haughtiness, hoping a guise of confidence would keep their murmurs just murmurs.

Past the cells she strode, surreptitiously spying into the darkness. As her long shadow fell through the lattice of bars, she heard the sounds of scuffling followed by frightened whispers. The torchlight emanating from the yard their curse, the unseen prisoners hid from sight, but as Kagome tentatively felt for their youki, she found none. Heavy with a sharp tang, she instead smelled their sweat and excrement and she knew they were only human.

Throughout the sprawling camp, she then roamed, peering into tents and dilapidated buildings. Her other senses as focused as her eyes, she felt for even the faintest flickers of demonic aura. Occasionally, she felt weak tingles of it, but they seemed as thin as afterthoughts, diluted until they were little more than imagined. Huddled around their campfires, the warriors watched her as she peeked and prodded with a few fingering the woven threads of their hilts. She took great care not to walk close to the outline of woods that bordered the shrine so that their concern stayed limited to the reach of their open hearths.

Soon, she found herself back at the prison, her fruitless search ending where it began. She had turned over the entire camp and they were nowhere to be found. Into her sleeve she dipped her hand, desperate to feel the wad of tangled hair that gave her courage. Tattered with great gaps between the seams, she found nothing and then she remembered where it was, in the sleeve of her white coat long since gone. With its loss, the weight of her plight came crumbling down upon her shoulders. The burden too much, she slumped to the ground with her back resting against the wall of the prison. Her knees folding against her chest, she set her face onto them. Weary and confused, her mind drifted over the night's events and revelations as she tried to sort them out. As she tried to find a direction.

"Here you are," a cool voice spoke up and with a start Kagome looked up to find a familiar mask.

"Have you come to take me back?" she asked Kioshi, discovering as she said it that she was indifferent to whatever reply she received.

"No."

"Then what do you want? I don't have an answer for any of you. Pursuing a life that involves the condemnation and elimination of entire species so that they can be butchered and bought as remedies for arthritis is not an easy decision to make."

"Then you are considering it?"

"I am, but…" she began, her tongue suddenly failing her as a bout of self-doubt consumed her. What was she saying? At first, she thought she was buying time to keep them interested in her so that she could save her allies, but what if she was truly considering it? What if she believed Jianyu was right and that turning dangerous youkai into ash was a waste?

The image of a young woman in tight fitting black leather hefting a massive boomerang appeared in her thoughts to spread further dissension. Sango and her exterminator clan used parts of slain demons as weapons and armor and she never once thought it was bad. How was medicine any different?

Kioshi kinked her head to the side and crossed her arms.

"I don't know," Kagome quickly admitted, "I don't know what to believe. I don't know what is right anymore. I just need to think. To find a direction."

Staring at the young priestess floundering in the choppy seas of the most difficult reality, Kioshi paused. She had not always been a woman frozen of the hardest ice and on her smooth, frosted surface a crack of pity grew. Then with a slight nod of understanding, a bit of her icy exterior melted away and she approached. Crouching down to join her, the seemingly always poised and elegant Kioshi sat neatly on her shins beside Kagome.

"I was once without direction," she said softly as if the admission of vulnerability could only be uttered in whisper. "But, my ideals and future were burnt away in far less time than one night."

"The scar on your face?" Kagome surmised.

"Yes."

"Did a youkai do it to you? Burn your village and kill your family, so now you're seeking revenge?"

"No," she chuckled dryly, "I was burned by another miko."

"Wha-? Why?"

"I was the best."

"Over that? You were burned for being the best?"

"I suppose being a priestess from such a rural area that you do not understand what it means to be a miko where the shrines are grand and the pagodas touch the heavens. I came from a magnificent shrine that I shared with numerous other priestesses. However, no matter if it was dancing, purification ceremonies or healing remedies, I had no equal among them. The affluent swiftly learned of this and I became the prized bloom revered as a gift from Amaterasu herself. Preference however breeds jealousy."

Taking a delicate finger to her mask, Kioshi traced a line across her cheek where the scar lay beneath.

"Boiling water used in one of our purification ceremonies," she continued, her voice growing colder. "The girl spouted clumsiness, but it was no accident. Inevitably, it did not matter. The damage was done and my wondrous skills paled beside hideousness that spoiled my cheek. You see, the rich and the noble want only the absolutely pure to purify them. Because of that, I was no longer desired and soon I was sent away to the country."

"That's horrible."

"That is life. It is brimming with horrors that mangle and scar the innocent and the naïve. I witnessed much of it as I traveled and learned that the paltry suffering I had endured was nothing compared to petty wars and massacres. You cannot unsee what demons and humans do to those who are weaker than they. You cannot unsee the broken lives they leave in their wake. Many of the men who surround us are those who lost everything. Jianyu gathered them up as he gathered me and gave us a purpose."

"Then you believe what he says? About youkai being despised by the gods?"

"I am an imperial priestess. I cannot deny what my powers do to demons and his reasoning makes the most sense out of any that I have heard. But it is not a hatred of youkai that spurs my actions, but a desire to help those who are suffering. If potions and salves refined from the bodies of demons will save countless lives, then I will give my life for it. I am human. It is their survival that I serve."

Rising to her feet, Kioshi patted the dust from her knees and shins.

"Not all youkai kill humans."

"The ones we capture have."

"That's not true!"

Gazing down, the masked miko caught the desperation in her eyes.

"They all have at some time or another. Consider it and you will know it to be true."

Smooth like ink slipping over paper, Kioshi stepped away without awaiting a reply, leaving Kagome alone to think. Overwhelmed even more than she was before the priestess had spoken with her, she did not wade through her jumble of thoughts long when she felt the familiar weight of youki permeate the air. Bold and terrifying, it could only be his.


	9. Labyrinth

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Nine: Labyrinth

Rising to her feet, Kagome focused on the daiyoukai's strengthening aura. Powerful and overwhelming, it thickened the air with an unbridled intensity and prickled her tongue with every shaky breath. Hands rubbing over her sleeves, she began to soothe her tightening skin now covered with goose flesh. Never had she felt his presence so vividly, but despite its strength, the aura felt strangely sterile, lacking any hints of emotion that were often embroiled in it.

'It was Sesshoumaru, wasn't it?' she thought, taking her first hesitant steps toward the source. Even as she knew it was him and that he was a demon who prided himself on self-control and maintaining a detached regard toward others, he didn't emit youki so devoid of passion and spirit. No one did.

Her pace quickened and soon she rounded the farthest corner of the prison. Then a soft sigh left her as she stared at the towering building ahead. The one place she hadn't looked would be the place that made the most sense. Across the yard she walked, retracing her fleeing footprints back to the ominous silhouette of the pagoda. Into its dark shadow, she soon strode, her eyes focusing on the heavy doors of the entrance and staunchly avoiding the stares of the guards who haunted it.

Her socked feet came to a stop and with a gulp; she reached for the shallow groove of the door handle. Snaking out quickly, a large bony hand seized her wrist and the miko winced as its grip pinched her tightly. Looking up meekly, she found its owner, a tall man whose suspicious glare held her more firmly than his grip.

"I have to see Lady Kioshi," Kagome blurted out a lie, hoping the silver moonlight and inky shadows would hide the telling blush the colored her cheeks. "I have the answer Lord Jianyu wanted."

His grip lessened slightly as he mulled over her answer and she gritted her teeth in an effort to ease the tension wearing on her nerves. With the rhythms of foggy exhales and thumping heartbeats slowing, time seemed to pass at its own leisure as she continued to stare at the guardian.

"Very well," he replied, his voice hollow and cold. Then he released her to reach for the door. Along the track, he slid it open and with an abrupt wave, he impatiently gestured for her to enter. Fingers seeking the hot flesh of her wrist, she massaged it gently as she passed through.

Then with a quiet, rolling scrape, the door sealed behind her and the priestess quickly began to walk across the massive room toward the stairwell. The oppressive youki around her swelled as she made her way through, its weight dipping her shoulders and bowing her back as its presence seeped through her to thicken in her chest. Coughing lightly, she tried to alleviate the tightening sensation, but it would not budge and only grew instead.

The dark, rust-colored stains slipped by under her moving feet and subconsciously she began to follow the dappled path they created. Up the stairs she climbed and into the thick fog of incense. Her legs ending with the vague notions of her billowing pants, the hazy wisps of smoke curled out of the way as she glided through.

Coming to the heavy door that offered entrance into the sealed up room, Kagome placed her hand on its thick wooden panel. Weak sensations of youki warmed the surface, but they were too muddled together for her to distinguish them from each other. Then another pulse of demonic aura drenched her in sweat and she twisted to face the stairwell leading to the next floor. He was up there.

Nearly tipping over the litter of jars that bore the thin, burning sticks, the miko rushed to the steps and hurried up them. Mirroring the previous floor, she hastily crossed the narrow pathway, wading through the smoke until she reached the door. She touched it for a moment before jerking away. Hissing under her breath as she gently rubbed her burnt palm, soothing away the redness as she swallowed hard. He was here.

A heavy, but simple sliding door, Kagome slowly sunk down as her hand hovered over the smooth wood. Systematic in her examination, she searched for any barriers or hidden magic that might betray her intentions. Finding none, she swiftly straightened up and reached for the handle. Her fingers though paused before she could grasp it, curling toward her palm in indecision.

'How much did he hate her right now?' she wondered silently, remembering the rage in his eyes when he realized the needle had pierced his side. If she saved him, he would most likely kill her. The memory of the lifeless miko he had ripped open to feast upon shoved its way into her mind, only now it bore her face and not that of Lady Nao. Would he eat her just like he had eaten that poor priestess? Did she deserve it? Or did he deserve to be eaten like those he had killed and eaten in his hundreds of years of life? Who was right? Or were they both wrong?

Her hand found her forehead and she began to massage her temples gently. A budding headache brewed there, spiking with the toxic mixture of smoke and the dubious fate of demons to aggravate it. Shuffling lightly, the sound of footsteps on the floor above her creaked and her indecision evaporated. Grabbing the hot handle with her fingertips, she slid the door open and blindly stepped in before spinning around to shut it hastily. Torrents of youki churned in invisible waves around her as she waited by the door, listening earnestly for the approaching steps she was sure would follow.

"So, now you have accepted their attire," a deep voice accused darkly and she froze. A fresh fear coursed through her and she clasped her hands together, hoping to stop their trembling. "How does it fit? Well, I imagine."

Heart straining in her throat, she slowly turned around. Downcast upon the floor, her eyes lingered at first on the trail of familiar stains and slowly rose as they led her to the fresh blood that hadn't yet browned with time. At the center of a red pool, she then found an enormous slab of granite, ground flat along one side. Sticky with trickled blood, her vision traveled up the rock and she met blood-smeared skin and raw flesh. Quickly, she turned her face away; her eyes squeezed shut and begging to forget.

"Do you fear the consequences of your actions, miko?" the daiyoukai growled icily. "Look at me and see what your betrayal has fruited."

She remained still.

"Look at me!"

With his seething roar, she looked up, unable to deny him any further. Elaborately knotted rope biting into his arms and legs, Sesshoumaru hung from the front of the boulder with his bare, limp body displayed shamelessly before her. Hair once as silver as moonlight reflecting on a calm lake was now drenched crimson and clung to his skin in thick mats. Thin and glinting amber in the light of the burning lamps, a dozen acupuncture needles protruded from him with clusters of bells dangling from their ends. Deeply sunk into his tissue, rivulets of blood seeped where the needles pierced him, drawing delicate designs along the hard lines of his body before dripping onto the floor.

Then her breath hitched and the sour flavor of bile surged up her throat. Just below the ribs on his right side, a cruel, black opening gaped. Skin and muscle sliced, his flesh was peeled back and pinned above to his lower chest and below to his abdomen. Inside the wide gash, she could see his exposed organs. Glimpses of his stomach and intestines glistened along the edges and in the center a strange emptiness floated, bloody and dark.

"Justice, would you not say?" he spoke up, noticing where her attention now hovered. "A fitting punishment exacted upon me for my crime this evening."

"They cut out your liver," she whispered, the urge to retch keeping her voice low. Thick and swollen she swallowed the salty lump in her throat and her hand found her mouth as she took a step toward him.

"Yes."

"They did this to you for revenge? For what you did to Lady Nao?"

"They did this to me for you," he corrected.

"For me? I-I didn't ask for--"

"For all of you," he interrupted and then his hoarse voice turned to acid in her ears. "For the lives of humans we are cut up and made into paste."

"You knew about them before tonight?"

"What demon with a modicum of sense hasn't? Youkai poaching is an ancient trade much like the medicine we are butchered for. That I believed they would never have the gall to attack a daiyoukai was a failing on my part. A fatal one." Then a dark chuckle rumbled from him and she finally looked at his gaunt face and the thinly veiled blend of rage and agony that resided there. Sunken in their bruised sockets, his bloodshot eyes pierced her deeper than his dying, hollow laugh. And then he spoke again. "Now I realize that the defeat of Naraku was not a victory at all and that is perhaps the deepest of wounds."

"That's not true! We saved all of Japan when we killed him and wished away the Shikon no Tama, humans and youkai alike."

"Ignorant, little human," he rebuked in disgust, "You wear their clothing and perhaps now you heed their fox tongues. So certain are you? Then enlighten me with your infallible truth."

Kagome stood silently, her words drying up with the saliva in her mouth.

"Then tell me the truth. Why wasn't Naraku's death a victory? I don't understand. We killed him."

Staring at her for a long time, the youkai lord made no reply as he debated the earnestness behind her request.

"Hn," he finally snorted, "The act of slaying Naraku was not the failure. His death was a feat worth a good measure of pride, but it came too late. I told you what has become of our numbers over the course of that vile half-breed's reign."

"There are fewer of you."

"Thousands were absorbed or used as fodder in battle by him. Small and weak-willed, they could not escape his control or his hunger for power. Unfortunately, these same youkai were also the game for stronger demons who managed to elude his lure. Without their accustomed food source, they were forced to seek it elsewhere. To seek humans."

"The attacks on villages lately."

"Yes and with it we have the emergence of hunters like the ones who harbor you at this very moment. The easier demons that had been killed for the trade are gone and now they must pursue more dangerous prey. Too dangerous for the gold they're willing to part with, so these sly merchants now hide behind guises of righteousness to convince the foolish. Thus what remains of our kind is purged to fill their purses."

"They said what they did was the will of the gods. That the gods despised youkai and that's why we can purify them."

Sesshoumaru's unnatural chuckle rose again and the priestess shifted nervously as it slowly died away.

"Indeed, they likely do, but who are you or they to decide if we deserve to perish? Humans are not gods even if they lend you a spark of their power."

"All the same, even if the gods haven't explicitly decreed it, some demons are just evil," Kagome argued. "They don't hunt a human here and there to keep from starving. They slaughter indiscriminately and when they do, they enjoy it."

"Are you imagining me as you speak this?"

Swallowing dryly again, she didn't reply.

"No doubt," he answered for her and a subtle, crooked smirk teased the corner of his cracked lips. "But, I have told you before not to hold me to the standards of humanity. The ways of a demon lord are not the ways of a human."

"But, you affect humans."

"I affect everyone," he corrected and then his disdainful expression became twisted with shadow. "Am I evil for it? Perhaps. If the countless lives I have taken are the testament of my nature, then so be it. I am evil, pure and sadistic."

"Then do you deserve to die like any other evil demon? Purified away like those who destroy villages or in this case, be used for medicine to save those who could survive?"

"Again you insist on binding me to human law," Sesshoumaru sighed faintly, "I tire of this direction, but if you must entertain it then I suppose for the purposes of this conversation, I shall as well. If what you speak is the fate of those who are evil, for those who kill then it is inevitable that I would find myself here, hung like a boar and bleeding out before being butchered. However, if I am being held to these standards, then so should you."

"What do you mean?"

"For all the humans I have killed, you have killed nearly as many youkai. If we demons are bound to the rules of humanity, then your slaughtering of us should be bound to them as well."

Speechless for a few breaths, she stared at the daiyoukai in near disbelief.

"I'm not evil."

"Are you?"

"A-Any youkai I've purified was to defend innocents being killed," she argued vehemently while whispered doubt shuddered her voice. "I had to kill them to save the people they were attacking."

"And I am not permitted to defend myself or my followers? I should instead allow legions of samurai to assault me, because if I kill them, it shall make me evil. I think not."

"But you enjoy killing them."

"What difference does one's emotion make to the dead? Whether I am pleased or saddened by my acts, it has no bearing on those who can no longer witness it."

Hands cupping her face, Kagome rubbed gently, her mind lost in a labyrinth of thoughts with each path leading her to a dead end. Soon, a sinking weariness weighed on her and the idea of finding a place to lie down drew her desire. More than anything, she wanted to sleep away what remained of the night, so that she could wake up and dismiss it as some cruel nightmare. So that she could continue on blindly with her simple life. How easy it would be.

Then the image of thick, white hair and firerat fur ghosted through her vision and she knew there was no simple life to return to after this. He was still missing and if her thoughts dwelled on it too long, tears began to burn in her eyes.

"I don't know what to do," she murmured. "I don't know what is right or wrong. I don't know what to choose anymore."

"But, you must choose," Sesshoumaru replied, "Ignorance is no longer your guide and you cannot travel both paths."

"But, I don't want to!" she half-cried, her voice cracking and the tears she desperately held back began to spill down her cheeks. "Humans or youkai. I don't want there to be a difference in how I think of them, because he's… he's both. And I… I love all of him."

"Then do not choose between human and youkai," he answered with an almost imperceptible kindness. "Choose between life and death."

"What?"

"Be willing to kill youkai and humans alike or vow to never kill another demon again. Hold everyone to your human standards or none at all."

"Kill humans?"

"Those arrows of yours can pierce more than youkai, miko."

"No, I can't. That's wrong. I can't even… No."

"Then never kill anyone again," he growled harshly, "This world does not need another hypocrite. Another fool who is too blinded by ideals to see the reality stumbling their feet."

The last insult too much, Kagome stormed up close to him, her sight too scared to waver from his piercing eyes.

"I am not a hypocrite," she ground out.

The youkai lord paused, his perpetually pained expression becoming vaguely quizzical as he carefully sniffed the air, another scent rising slightly above the metal of his own blood. Then a fog of red tinted his eyes and his aura surged wrathfully. Brightening to molten white, the needles impaling him glowed hot as they seemed to effectively route the burning youki swelling in his body. Fleshy tendrils of purple tissue grew and attached within the empty cavity in his abdomen, but their surprising appearance was beyond the joint notice of the miko and the daiyoukai.

"Treacherous bitch," he snarled, the uncouth name rolling off his aristocratic tongue as his fangs flashed. "That I thought perhaps to spare your death once I attained freedom. Now I am relieved that that is one imprudent act I shall not make the mistake to do."

Rising up, Sesshoumaru pulled hard on his binds, the ropes sparkling pink as he struggled. Sweet and slightly acrid, his skin sizzled and blistered as he yanked, causing bubbling blood to trickle down his arms and feet. Dizzying and excruciating at first, he locked the pain away with an experienced warrior's ease until it was as numb as a bad memory.

Stumbling back, Kagome watched in stunned horror as he continued to fight.

"To spout your love for him after what you have done," he added with a cold, lethal rage, "You will die and I, Sesshoumaru will be the one to kill you."

"Inuyasha?" she asked, blinking away her shock. "What do you know about him?! Where is he?!"

"Your deceitful words hold no meaning now, woman. Do not feign ignorance. It will only serve you a more torturous death."

"What happened to him?!" she yelled, the drive to escape from his deadly promises suddenly overwhelmed by the bout of wild fury now pulsing through her. "Tell me what you know! Tell me where he is!"

"I have entertained you enough for one evening. Now pray to your precious gods. It will be your last opportunity."

"You're going to tell me!"

Ignoring his threatening claws and menacing, blood red glare, she darted close to him. The ropes held tight and somewhere beyond the vows of a sure death, she knew hers would not be by his hand in that moment. Grabbing a needle, she pressed it in.

"Tell me where he is!" she yelled again, driving it in deeper, desperate for an answer and willing to do what it took to get it.

Grimacing slightly, the youkai lord accepted the pain like he had the rest and his tongue fell silent.

"I need to know!" she nearly begged, her vision blurring as she pushed in another needle. Blood gushed out from the wounds she worsened. "Where is he?! I need him! Just tell me where he is!"

The world becoming more shadow than light, Sesshoumaru slowly began to slump, his youki tapering and the magic of the ropes dulling as his struggle to break them ended.

"Where is he?! Tell me!"

"He is like all youkai," he managed to whisper before succumbing to the black, "He is under your feet."

Head bowed, he then hung motionless on the rock and Kagome backed away, her blood-stained hand over her mouth. Had she been able to think, to find reason amid the tangled views and decisions that swarmed her mind, she never would have done it. As it was though, the only clarity amid the mess was the purpose of her being there to begin with, to find Inuyasha.

Pulling her hand away from her face, she stared at the daiyoukai's blood. Blood that she had spilt. Then the burn of guilt swiftly began to corrode her insides. What had she done? Her body numb, she collapsed onto the floor. This couldn't be real. A surreal haze fell over her senses and her sight drifted over the old bloodstains that tainted the wood until it came to rest on her bandaged ankle.

"He is under my feet," she murmured, running her finger along the contours of the thin strip of wound fabric until a clump of salve stuck to it. Rubbing the oily paste between her forefinger and thumb, its red tones smeared beside the blood of the youkai lord still on her hand. Then she was quickly wrenched from her daze with what color that was still held by her cheeks draining to a white pall.

Inuyasha was the salve.


	10. Sacrifice

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Ten: Sacrifice

It was quiet.

Reaching out with red fingers, the growing pool of blood surrounding the boulder trickled across the hard floor, creeping steadily toward the motionless priestess. Soaking through her clothes, it soon touched her skin. But, despite the clinging dampness, she sat unaware of it, lost to numbness as she stared blankly at the ointment smeared on her fingers. The salve was warm and her cheek remembered resting against his broad back as the endless blur of trees raced by. It glittered faintly and her eyes remembered his golden ones glimmering at sunset after the rain. It tingled as she rubbed it between her fingers and her lips remembered his mouth pressed softly against hers when he kissed her for the first time.

Inuyasha was gone and all that was left of him was on her hands and in her memories. Their quest for the Shikon no Tama shards, the betrayal and acceptance of Kikyo, the final battle with Naraku and the years of waiting to return. All of the triumphs and all of the loss. All of what they had endured. All of it gone in one night.

A shuddering sigh left her, her first breath in what felt like an eternity. Moving of their own accord, her hands found the loosened bandage and began to unravel it the rest of the way. If tears slipped down her face, she didn't know it and soon the wadded strip of fabric was cradled against her chest. What ointment that still clung to her ankle and foot was quickly wiped up and added to the tangled clump. Then she delicately tucked it into her sleeve. She needed something to bury if there was nothing else to find.

A jumble of thumps resonating beyond the door, Kagome turned her head slightly at the sounds of several footsteps approaching. With the threat of being discovered looming, she felt strangely immune to any concern. There was nothing they could do to her now that would hurt more than what had already been done. Then without her consent, her trembling legs began to move, lifting her wilted body up and carrying her to safety behind the huge boulder. Onto the floor, she collapsed and her head lolled back to settle against the rough stone.

With a soft scrape, the door glided open and two silhouettes filled the entrance. Tall and heavy beside the slight frame of the imperial miko, Jianyu stood next to Kioshi. At their backs were several guards with one of them carrying a ceramic, cooking pot. Their critical eyes scanned the room, particularly the dangerous daiyoukai that hung lifelessly in the center of it.

"Hmm," the merchant hummed his disappointment as he stared at the limp demon. "And I had high hopes."

Catching Kioshi's sight, he casually nodded toward Sesshoumaru and she returned the gesture in acknowledgement before cautiously walking forward. Moving silently, she crossed the space swiftly until she was a few steps away. Her hand dipping into her sleeve, she retrieved a long needle, the bells on its end jingling as she held it out readily. Then she slowly crossed the puddle of spilled blood.

His head hanging, the youkai lord's down-turned face lay hidden under long, sticky tendrils of hair. The miko came close to him with the needle she gripped hovering over the old wound in his side. Bowing carefully under his chin, she tentatively pressed her ear against his chest and tried to listen to his heart over the thunderous beating of her own drumming in her throat. Weak, but steady, she nearly missed his faint beat. With a satisfied nod, she quickly stepped back and turned to face Jianyu.

"It lives," she called out, "But barely."

The merchant nodded.

Returning her attention to the daiyoukai, she noticed fresh rivulets of newly shed blood. Up his torso, she traced them until she met a deeply embedded needle. Clumped at the skin, only the tiny bells were visible with the rest of it driven through flesh and bone. Looking about briefly, she found another that had been pushed in the same fashion and a grimace frowned her features beneath the placid expression of her mask.

"It's been tortured," Kioshi remarked. "That would explain the flare of youki I sensed earlier."

From the daiyoukai's body to the blood at her feet, she continued to inspect for clues when her sharp eyes caught a telling trail of red smears. Easily footprints, the soggy tracks were dragged along the wood, leading away toward the back of the room and swiftly out of sight. Slender and shoeless, she knew of only one who could have left them and her gaze returned to the bowed head of the youkai lord. So vigorously had the other priestess fought to claim it. How hard she had fought to protect it. And now, she presses needles into its defenseless body until it nearly dies. Had she heeded their reasoning and decided to join them? Or was this her own sense of justice wishing to punish the demon for the evils it had committed?

Keen to demand answers for her perplexity, the imperial miko took a step toward the rear of the room.

"Lady Kioshi," Jianyu spoke up and she stopped instantly at the sound of her name. "Let our trespasser be."

"Jianyu-sama, she--"

"There is nothing to fear from a coward who stabs a beast that cannot fight back. Leave her be and examine its wound."

"As you wish, my lord."

With only one exit, she knew that a time to question the priestess would come soon enough and she dutifully turned to face the daiyoukai again. Surrounded by the viscous ooze of clotting blood, the long gash gaped open and as she peered inside, a gasp escaped her. Purple in tone and firm in texture, a new, regenerated liver lay where only dark emptiness had hung before.

"It worked, Jianyu-sama. The liver has grown back," she said with nearly breathless astonishment, "You have your Prometheus."

Still crumpled where she fell, the foreign name penetrated Kagome's ears when every other word sounded as vague as thunder rumbling in the distance. Trudging through her wallow of despair and hopelessness, it began to consume her thoughts. He has his Prometheus? What did Kioshi mean by that? Then her ears heard everything as she feebly roused herself to listen.

"Amazing," the merchant answered and then eagerly walked forward, wanting to see it for himself. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, his silk slippers paused just before the border of spilt blood. "After all of our searching, we have finally found one strong enough to endure. How does the organ appear?"

"Healthy. It should yield quite a bit, perhaps enough for an entire village."

"And the demon?"

Raising a few fingers toward the open entrance, Kioshi stole the attention of one of the guards and he quickly joined her side.

"Lift its head," she ordered and the man grabbed Sesshoumaru by his bangs and drew his head up. After unraveling the bandages from her hand, the imperial priestess brushed her fingers over his cheek and hovered them in front of his slightly open mouth, noting the coolness of his clammy skin and the shallowness of his rare breaths. "Not well. It may not survive much longer if the strength of its youki continues to deteriorate."

"I see," he replied pensively and then his eyes brightened, "What has become of its companions? Were there any of adequate strength that accompanied it? Ones that could replace it should it not survive?"

With his question, an unexpected glimmer pierced her dark reality and Kagome strained to hear every word. Then as quickly as her hope had sparked, Kioshi's answer squelched it.

"None survived. Its two-headed mount was too bestial to be used in this fashion, so it has already been butchered and ground up. The smaller youkai died in the field from the ambush. We have its body, but there is not much of it to be of use. Drying it will be the best option."

"And the abomination?"

Stiffening at the sound of the slur, Kagome's jaw clenched. Buried beneath the numbness deep within her heart, a flicker of anger began to burn.

"It seemed strong at first," Kioshi explained, "It did, after all, survive our initial assault in the field. From its appearance, I would say it was most likely related to this one, possibly an offspring."

"Hmm."

"Being a half-breed however, its diminished aura was considerably less potent than that of a full-blooded demon. Between the blood loss and the youki-routing needles, it succumbed not long after we removed its liver and a portion of its stomach."

"Pity."

"Hardly, my lord. While it is a great deal more effective than one expects with its diluted, demonic blood, its organs will only heal minor injuries such as bruises or shallow cuts. It would be a waste to process."

"Then we shall have to rely on this one," Jianyu sighed, slightly frustrated. "Too many have died in the hunts recently and with demons growing scarcer, it seems that soon only the truly dangerous ones will remain. We need a Prometheus. We need this Prometheus."

"A youkai from which we can harvest an unlimited supply of organs," the imperial priestess replied. "One that could make enough medicine so that we would never have to hunt again."

Jianyu nodded.

"But until now, they have all died for one reason or another," he went on, "It seems though that if we can preserve its aura, it could survive the wounds and continue to grow what we need."

Anticipating his line of thought, Kioshi gave an abrupt wave toward the guard carrying the cooking pot.

"What is that?" the merchant asked as the man strode by, his steps swift but careful so as not to spill.

"Our assurance that it will survive, my lord," she explained, "I have already taken measures after noting how the others have perished. We must replenish its youki if it is to live and to do that we must feed it."

"Feed it what?"

"What we cannot use. Demons consume each other as much as humans, so why not feed it the youkai that we won't make into medicine."

'Youkai they won't make into medicine,' Kagome mouthed soundlessly, her eyes widening in horror and a sickening knot began to twist in her belly. They wouldn't, would they? They knew they were related, didn't they? They knew it.

"It would at the very least be worth the try to see if it works," Kioshi finished.

"Very well," he replied.

Nodding once as Jianyu gave his permission, the imperial miko quickly turned toward the guard still suspending Sesshoumaru's head by his bangs. Catching her glance, the man pitched the daiyoukai's head back further and brought his other hand up to pull down on his chin. His mouth parted wide enough, the waiting guard removed the lid on the pot. With wisps of steam escaping, a red-brown broth cooled inside the container.

"Go ahead," she ordered the guard and he stepped forward, lifting the pot to the youkai lord's lips.

"No," Kagome whispered softly, her hands clutching the sides of her head with her digging nails ripping out a few strands of her hair. "They're brothers. You can't do that. You can't."

Tipping the pot slightly, the guard poured the thin soup into Sesshoumaru's mouth. Overflowing at first, the liquid trickled out of the corners of his mouth and drizzled down his chin. The daiyoukai coughed as it gushed down his throat and he pulled feebly on his ropes as he attempted to resist it.

The weak sounds of his struggle thundered in her ears and when she thought she hadn't the strength to stand, Kagome found herself on her feet. And when she thought she hadn't the will to fight, she found her voice.

"No!" she yelled shakily, startling the guards from their purpose, causing some of the broth to be lost to the floor. "You can't do this to them! They don't deserve it!"

"If you object Lady Kagome, then come out and speak with us," Jianyu offered aloud as he silently signaled the guards to leave the demon's feeding for later.

Hesitantly, she appeared, her body trembling more than her voice. She crossed her arms, hoping to soothe it and to rally her nerves. They had to stop. This wasn't right. None of it was.

"You have to stop. They don't deserve this."

"Who are they?"

"They were brothers and because of them, many human lives have been saved. This is wrong! They deserve better!"

"And now many more lives will be saved for their sacrifice."

"What right do you have to make them sacrifices?!"

"What right do you have to eat fish from the sea or a hare in the field?" he countered vehemently, tiring of her persisting lack of respect. "They are demons, beasts forsaken by the gods. If you could save a man's life at the expense of a hare's, would you not kill it? If you could save a village at the expense of a youkai's life, would you not slay it? What if it did not even need to die?"

"This isn't life. This is torture. This is inhumane. Demons have feelings. They have family."

"And a fish does not know joy when it discovers a drowning cricket or fear when the hook sinks into its mouth? The hare does not have a mother and father or brothers and sisters when it is born? An unfettered existence you must have lived, Lady Kagome and one you shall no longer keep. There is no place for conflicted priestesses in our ranks." Waving a hand toward the guards, the swift men then swooped down on her, grabbing her wrists before she could twist away. "However, it is a pity. Your talents would have been greatly appreciated by us and by the gods."

"Jianyu-sama."

"Yes, Lady Kioshi?" he answered, smoothing away any stray hairs that had loosened from his tight braid.

"I believe it has absorbed enough to survive," she coldly informed him, glancing at Kagome as she spoke, her eyes bereft of all feeling except pity. "Shall we remove it again or shall we aim for another organ?"

"If you believe it will not perish as a result, then you are welcome to take what suits you."

"It will not," she replied assuredly and her hand slipped to the narrow, black sash at her waist. The dark color of its handle and sheath concealing it, her hand found the hilt of her tanto and she pulled it free from its saya. The polished blade glinted amber in the lamplight and the imperial priestess turned to face Sesshoumaru.

'Be willing to kill youkai and humans alike or vow to never kill another demon again,' the daiyoukai rasped painfully in Kagome's memory. 'Hold everyone to your human standards or none at all.'

Kioshi stepped toward him, the dagger expertly held as her sight focused on the open wound and the choice of organs she intended to remove.

'I can't choose between humans and youkai. Not after what they've done to Inuyasha. Not after what they're going to do to you. Both sides are capable of extraordinary kindness and extraordinary cruelty. And neither is better or worse than the other.'

Distracted by a twisted fascination with what will happen to the demon, the guards' grip loosened on the forgotten miko in their hands.

'But they're not the only choice, are they? There is one more I can make.'

Yanking hard, Kagome broke away from their hold and sprinted forward.

'There is one more.'

Sharp and searing, overwhelming pain pierced through Kioshi and her readied blade fell from her hand. Shock blending with agony, her shaky fingers found the culprit, the thin, bloodied point of a needle protruding through her chest, one that had once been in the daiyoukai. Then with staggering steps, she turned to find Kagome's ashen face and surprised stare matching her disbelief. The imperial priestess' astonishment swiftly melted away and for a brief moment the calm look of a woman who could only expect betrayal filled her eyes. Then with the galloping approach of death dulling them, she collapsed lifelessly in a heap of crumpled, black clothing.

Swiftly crouching, Kagome scooped up the dropped knife and slid it under one of Sesshoumaru's binds. Drawing it hard and quick against the rope, she severed it and went for the next. Again she slashed, uncaring as she nicked his flesh in her haste. She cut several more when a hot, burning pain found her shoulder and another struck her deep in her back. The taste of metal flavored her tongue and she felt her strength drain. Dizzy and lightheaded, coughs wet with blood racked her struggling breaths and despite her desperation to stand, she fell down into the puddle on the floor.

The knots unraveling from her efforts, the rope securing the youkai lord to the boulder began to give and he slid down the rock before falling free to the ground beside her. With a heavy thump, he struck, his placid, blood-spattered face facing hers. As her vision darkened and unintelligible curses and shouts flooded her ears, she whispered to him.

"Get up, Sesshoumaru. You're free. You're free."


	11. Retribution Waits

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Eleven: Retribution Waits

Skin pale but for the stark splatter of blood dripping down his cheek, Sesshoumaru lay motionless where he fell, the whispers of the struck miko seemingly unheard. With every darkening moment that passed, her sacrifice lost meaning as his life remained within the warriors' mercy. To his survival, she clung and her hand twitched as she gathered the strength to move it. He had to escape. He had to live. It wasn't too late.

An agonizing burn in her shoulder and back overwhelmed her brain with excruciating pain. Sweat drenched her skin and her vision whirled with dizzying spots of light filling her eyes. Closing them and gritting her teeth, she pushed through the nausea and hurt until her hand slowly rose. As if broken beyond repair, her body resisted. But despite it, she pushed herself to move, creeping shakily across the short distance between her and the daiyoukai.

A jolt of pain wrenched a wet cry from her lips as a sandal clad foot stomped down on her extended hand. Pinning it tightly, the delicate bones bent under the guard's weight and Kagome gritted her teeth hard to stifle her cries to a whimper. Echoing indistinctly above her, the heavy voices of men decided her fate, their words muffled by the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She though did not need to understand what they said to know their intent. The flash of steel as the guard beside her raised his sword was enough.

Floundering pitifully, the miko tried to free herself from the anchor of his foot. While she had accepted that her death was inevitable when she pulled the needle from Sesshoumaru's body and stabbed Kioshi through the back, a part of her still struggled to keep going. The will to survive pulsed through her, but even as it pumped, she slowly discovered that it was only as great as what awaited her at the battle's finish. With guilt and loneliness as future companions, her desperation faded to apathy and she realized that she did not care to welcome the dawn. After all, Inuyasha was dead and soon she would join him with the only solace being that her end would be a good one.

Slipping through the air, the long blade floated by until it disappeared to hover over the back of her neck. Aching breaths slowing as she waited for the line of silver that hung dangerously over her to drop. Finally, a painless darkness fell over her faculties as an icy chill coursed through her body and she knew it was time.

A vicious growl.

Droplets splatter on her cheek.

Blinking away the blurriness in her watery eyes, a familiar, striped wrist filled her sight. She followed it to a hand and the sharp blade it gripped, the steel cutting into the flesh. A jagged snarl sliced through her dulled hearing and hot, ragged breaths singed her ear. Slowly, she turned her head to find the brilliant glow of red eyes and gleaming fangs.

Unmindful of the cut deepening across his clenched palm, the enraged youkai lord yanked on the sword, pulling the guard along with it. Onto his knees, the man stumbled and before his surprise could wear off, there was a spray of blood as Sesshoumaru's free hand slashed his throat.

Stunned by terror and disbelief, Jianyu and the last guard looked on in a trance as the fallen warrior pierced the air with bubbling, high-pitched screams. Desperately, the man fought against the daiyoukai as he was flipped over onto his back, his blunt nails clawing the demon's forearms and reaching for his face. Unfazed by his flailing victim, Sesshoumaru dug both sets of claws into the center of his chest and then without the hesitation of mercy, he pulled them apart. With the snapping of bones and the tearing of flesh, he ripped open the guard's ribcage.

Panicked shrieks escaped the man as he stared in abject horror at the bloody hole in his chest and his beating heart peeking out beneath the mangled tissue. Pain flooded his delirious mind and he feebly pulled at the youkai lord's arm as the demon reached for the rapidly pulsing organ. Slippery as it throbbed in his hand, Sesshoumaru tore the heart free from its arteries and veins, blood spurting as the guard's final scream ended in a gurgle.

Fangs ripping into the dense organ, the daiyoukai tore off a chunk of the heart and swallowed it whole. Quickly he devoured it, the settled blood gushing from its chambers and down his chin as he ate. Soon it was finished and he reached for the dark color of his liver. With a firm jerk, he freed it from the dead guard's abdomen. Hands trembling, he swiftly wolfed down the softer organ with the shakiness of a starving animal.

Quaking as badly as the hungry demon, Jianyu took a step back, slowly edging toward the door behind him. Suddenly, burning, red eyes discovered him and the merchant turned and fled from the room. Abandoned to the appetite of the daiyoukai, the remaining guard sprinted away as well, the loud thumping of their shoes thundering down the stairs outside.

Snarling in disgust at their cowardice, Sesshoumaru's glare left the empty doorway for his stained and naked body. Winking gold, acupuncture needles protruded from him at all angles. Grimacing from the stings, he began to delicately pull them out, careful not to let them jingle as he set them down. The last one finally removed, the sensation of his youki flowing naturally bolstered his strength and his attention then floated to the open wound in his abdomen.

His claws found the slender pins keeping the broad slash agape and he began to extract them, scowling as his tender flesh stuck to the slivers of metal. As he removed the last pin, the flaps of skin and muscle hung loosely and he gathered them together to close the wound. Sickly green in color, a light began to glow under his cupped hands and the gash slowly sealed. Shivering from the effort, perspiration dappled his skin as he concentrated on healing. Then his youki faded and the light-headed feeling of exhaustion conquered his faculties. Swaying slightly, he lingered in a daze until the stinging beneath his hands sobered him back to reality. Leaning forward, he then examined the cut. Closed, but not completely healed, the inflamed line of a scar disfigured his smooth skin. Touching it tenderly, he traced the slightly oozing roughness, noting that any great strain would rip it open again.

Twisting hard with hunger, his stomach ached and the daiyoukai gritted his teeth until the surge of pain subsided. Desperate to feed, he looked to the guard's empty husk before him. Shredded by claws and broken ribs, the unsavory remnants left him disgusted and he tossed the corpse away. In a shrine brimming with enemies, he knew there would be better meals to be had shortly. Faced down not far from him, Kagome's limp body caught his attention. Meals that were perhaps more readily available than he thought.

Smoldering rage burned in his chest while he stared at her, flaring up as he considered each betrayal brought by her hand that night. That she sacrificed him to the hunters did not wear on his opinion of her nor did her staunch defense of the rights of humanity above those of youkai. The acts were deserving of death, but to slay all who were simply misguided and ignorant would leave the world barren of wisdom. After all, an enlightened priestess could influence the lives of her compatriots better than a martyred one. However, carefully weighted decisions did not fit this miko. Inuyasha, as foolish and as contemptible as he was, deserved better than what was done to him and for vengeance, she would know the same end.

His eyes narrowing, Sesshoumaru began to slide across the floor toward Kagome. The fabric of her coat was torn with a long slash at her shoulder and a deep puncture in her back, each sticky with blood. As he crept closer, disappointment brewed as it seemed that her life had already been bled from her body. To kill her would have been cruelly satisfying, but he could not deny the poetry of her death at the swords of the humans she had chosen to follow. Another pang of hunger shuddered inside of him and he reached for her arm, wondering how sweet her flavor would be. Grasping her slender wrist, he dragged her toward him.

"Sesshoumaru," Kagome murmured.

He continued to pull, darkly pleased that he had been wrong about her death.

"Sesshoumaru."

He flipped her over, his claws lightly slicing through her coats to reveal her soft chest.

"Sesshoumaru, get up. You're free."

Sharp nails ghosting over skin paused and the youkai lord stared at her face, his attention fixed on her mumbling lips. What had she said?

"What?"

"You're free," she repeated, her body beginning to shiver from exposure and shock. "I cut you free."

Following the smear of blood back where she had been struck down, the glint of a dagger caught his eye. He remembered the black-handled blade well. It belonged to the miko who had dissected him earlier, the violation and anger still fresh in his memory. Twisting slowly, he turned to spy up at the boulder behind him. Severed ropes dangled from it, their new ends cut clean. The truth spoken, she had freed him and the corpse a few steps away proved how. Indisputably dead, the masked priestess lay in her own puddle, the tiny point of a needle protruding through her chest. The events falling into place, he now understood why Kagome had been felled by the guards.

"Hn," he snorted, his hand finding her jaw and he turned her face toward him with consideration. Then his hunger shredded his insides again.

OOOOOOOOOO

The wetness beneath her chilling her skin, Kagome weakly tucked her limbs together as her warmth was steadily leached out into the bloody floor. Numbed by pain and fatigue, she scarcely noticed the shivering that wracked her body, focusing instead on the heaviness that pressed her to the ground. Death she had hoped was near. After all, through the shadowy haze of her sight, she had heard its cold voice and seen its blood-stained face with piercing, golden eyes.

Echoing shrilly, the earlier shrieks of terror that were followed by a sudden end still lingered in her ears and the envious side of her lamented how swift the death had been. Hers seemed to drag on with agonizing length and she wondered if it was what she deserved. How many had suffered because of her ignorance? How many will suffer because of her final decision? Yet, whether it was punishment or justice, she just wanted it all to stop, so that she could have her peace in oblivion.

Then another coughing fit seized her liquid-filled lungs and she shook hard with each convulsion. Blood sputtered from her lips and she clenched at her chest until the spasms subsided and her breathing evened out. It would seem that life would not let her go so easily.

Light and welcomed, the sudden sensation of weightlessness overcame the heaviness of her body and she felt herself begin to rise from the ground. A smile grew on her lips at first, believing that her time had come, but the feel of claws gripping her collar at the nape of her neck swiftly twisted her expression with confusion. Sesshoumaru had picked her up. Then came the feel of his muscular shoulder as it pressed against her stomach. He draped her over it, leaving her arms and head to hang down one side of his broad back. Through her foggy vision, she could make out the matted tangle of his red-dyed hair and the splattered floor just beyond it.

Then the ground spun as the daiyoukai turned on his heel to face the door. Stepping quietly, he began to cross the room, his ears tuned to the shouts and clamoring of the rallying men outside the pagoda. He didn't have much time.

A black and red blur, Kagome gasped as the corpse of the imperial miko passed through her downward sight. Carved open, the dead woman's body was emptied of the more palatable organs. Seeing what had become of her, a pang of remorse struck Kagome and she recalled the priestess who was now twice betrayed by her own sisterhood. Her guilt over her contribution though remained only a twinge. She had done what she had thought was right, just as Kioshi had done what she had believed in as well. Either way, it wouldn't matter for much longer.

Out into the smoky hall, the youkai lord moved, swiftly and lightly navigating around the incense pots to the stairwell leading down. Bare feet padding down the steps, he arrived to the second floor and then strode down the narrow way to the heavy door at the center of the wall. With one hand holding the priestess, he reached out with the other, his claws scraping across the wood. It was here. His fingers then slid across to the handle and he pulled the door open.

Burdened with wooden crates and clay jars, a maze of tables filled the room. In silhouette as they lined the shadowy walls, bundles of herbs hung, their sweet scents obscuring the heavy tones of metal that clung in the air. Sesshoumaru walked to the closest table, picking up several of the small pots and letting their rims pass under his nose. Scowling in dissatisfaction, he returned each one with a clatter until one prickled his senses. He sniffed the glazed jar a second time and nodded. This one would do.

Swiping with his hand, he cleared the table of it contents with shattering results. Then he threw his occupied shoulder forward, letting the limp miko slide from him onto the table. Sliced up earlier, he pulled her tattered coats open, revealing her bare skin beneath. Wavering not a moment, he swiftly flipped her over onto her stomach and pulled the loosened cloth from her back. Bloody, but clean, he examined her wounds, noting the shallowness of the one at her shoulder and the concerning depth of the other in her back.

A contesting whimper mumbled from her as he ran his fingers over the cuts, but the demon paid her no mind and instead dipped into the paste within the jar. Oily and fragrant, he smeared it into the wounds, packing generous quantities into the deeper one. Her warming flesh tingling, he felt the oozing blood staunch and the tissue beginning to grow. It would not do much more than encourage healing on cuts so severe, but she would survive long enough. Long enough for her to answer about what she had done.

Casting about briefly, he spied a roll of bandages in a crate and proceeded to dress the wounds so that they would stay clean. Once finished, he turned her over and redressed her. Her breathing strong and clear to match her heartbeat, he now only had to wait.

Pounding in his sensitive ears, the footfalls of men drummed in the story below and the daiyoukai felt a growl rumble in his throat. The coward had finally summoned his army. Tightening his right hand into a fist, he tested the strength of his grip and a wicked smile hinted at his lips. He would enjoy this. A pale green glow then enveloped his fist, the light reflecting horrifically on his face. He would enjoy this greatly.


	12. Sunrise

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

Chapter Twelve: Sunrise

The guards' hurried steps softened as they met the stairs and they began to stealthily slip up them. Reflecting slivers of lamplight, their short swords were drawn to compliment the closeness of the indoors. They steadily climbed up in a single file, their watchful eyes flitting over every dark corner as they searched for glowing red or a flash of silver.

Holding up a fist, the first man suddenly stopped and his attentive soldiers instantly heeded his command. Sight focused on the gaping doorway midway along the hall, he watched it for a long while. Silence passed uneventfully as they waited and then Daisuke motioned to the warriors at his back to be ready. Quietly, they again approached.

At the entryway, he paused again, surveying the room cautiously. Other than spilled medicine and fragments of pottery scattered on the floor, nothing seemed out of place. Then his eyes narrowed when he spotted the unconscious figure of a woman. Draped on her back across a table, he could see her face and at once recognized the captured priestess from the road. Lord Jianyu had said that she was struck down when she killed Lady Kioshi, but if she were dead, what was she doing here? With a shake of his head, he warily began to walk toward her. Seeking answers was not his profession and the merchant had given him only one order. Leave no intruder alive.

His polished sword gliding into position, he arrived at the miko's side with the tip of his blade slightly lowered, ready to thrust through her heart to end her life. Motionless, she laid before him and he questioned whether stabbing her was necessary. Then unexpectedly, her closed eyes fluttered open, startling him. Her eyes dull and red, she stared blankly up at him and an incoherent word slipped from her lips.

"What?" he whispered, unsure if he should just finish her or let her speak her final thoughts.

"Sesshoumaru," she mumbled again.

"Who?" he asked and then a terrifying realization chilled him through. Her eyes were not in fact looking at him, but above him. Swallowing down, he slowly turned around and looked up. Claws dug into the ceiling to suspend him, the youkai lord glared back down at him with blood red eyes and Daisuke knew his last memory had come to pass.

Shavings of wood falling, Sesshoumaru released his grip and dropped. Quickly, the warrior swung his sword at him in a rising arc, but his fast reflexes were outmatched as the swifter demon landed on him. Crushing him in the sickening snap of bones, the daiyoukai crouched nimbly on the mangled body that still struggled beneath him. Then in one swift motion, he ripped away the sword still in Daisuke's hand stabbed him through the spine, ending his fight.

Finished, his gleaming eyes rose to the stunned men still at the doorway and he slowly stood up. As he stared at them, a sinister smirk grew to kink his lips and then with slow, deliberate steps; he left the twitching corpse of their commander behind.

Coarse, yet shrill, several yelled their battle cries as he approached, their voices wavering with fear. Their rallying reaching a pitch, they hastily plunged forward, their swords brandished out front as they ran. The sharp blades though met only an afterimage of blood and silver. His wrist breaking, the outermost warrior then screamed in agony as the youkai lord appeared beside him, grabbing his arm. The demon swiftly twisted his aim toward his comrades and the guard impaled the one beside him through the abdomen. Consumed by their terror, the panicked men turned and stabbed him through, his desperate cries gurgling as he died. With a kick, the daiyoukai then sent the limp warrior into the others. Onto the floor, they tumbled onto one another, shrieking and flailing wildly as their swords cut lethally into their fellow man.

Leaving them to finish each other off, the demon lord turned to face the rest, his body hunched and his eyes on fire. A growl grew into a snarl and the staggered guards stumbled back. Then, he lunged into them. Flashes of pain seared his arms and chest as their swords sliced into him, but Sesshoumaru ignored the cuts, focusing instead on his nails ripping through their flimsy clothing to the vulnerable flesh beneath. Through their soft bellies, he tore, blood gushing from wounds only to turn into slurry as volatile acid poured from his claws. The poison swiftly dissolved their innards, the choking odor harsh in the stuffy air. Bubbling black with only their limbs and heads left unscathed, soon jumbles of corroding corpses littered the doorway and out into the hall.

Heavy breaths heaving his chest, Sesshoumaru stood amid them, his body painted red with chunks of flesh still clinging to his twitching muscles. Bright and green, his aura sizzled on his dyed skin and what gashes he had healed up. Then he was gone. Down the stairs, he went, his purposeful steps making no sound. There was no need for haste. There was nowhere they could run that he could not find them. This hunt he would savor and from their deaths he would take the greatest pleasure. Especially his.

Across the first floor, he walked, his burgeoning youki blowing out the lamps and fracturing the statues as he passed. Ahead, the heavy doors leading out were sealed. Beyond them, the daiyoukai heard orders being yelled and the sounds of dozens of racing heartbeats pumping like a thundershower on a roof. An army waited for a demon and a demon they would get.

OOOOOOOOOO

A loud bang met the door and black cracks fanned out over the carved mural on its surface. Quaking where they stood, legions of warriors waited with the whites of their eyes bright through the holes of their masks. Flinching as another bang sounded, those in front fidgeted nervously, prisoners of their heroism by the men pressing behind them. Then splinters of wood flew as the door exploded.

Brightened by the darkness behind them, fiery eyes glowed and slowly grew. Torrents of youki whipped at the warriors, pulling hard at their bodies and drowning out the commands of their leaders. Then a figure drenched in blood leapt out of the shadowed entrance. Morphing in midair, he swelled in size and shape. Red fur coated his body as it stretched and filled out and his face grew long with a maw lined with sharp teeth. Sliding across the gravel, an enormous dog landed behind the sea of warriors.

As tall as the pagoda itself, the canine growled viciously at the shivering masses before its paws, acid dripping down from its jaws. The poison splashed on the ground, soaking the line of men closest to him. Dissolving in a hiss of green smoke, they melted into puddles of liquefied flesh and bone. A growl rumbled from the giant beast and the earth shuddered with it. Shaken loose from the vibration, tiles slid off the eaves of the buildings, shattering on the ground with ringing clatters. Mesmerized by fear, the masks of a hundred warriors stared up at the daiyoukai and the rage flaring around him. Then with an ear shattering bark, the daiyoukai leapt forward.

Like ragged dolls, guards flew from the force of Sesshoumaru's impact while others were crushed under his paws. Reaching down into the swarm, he snapped up a few, their screams silenced with the crunch of his jaws. Dead, he swallowed them down, feeling his power strengthening with every gulp. Resembling tiny needles, desperate men quickly stabbed through his thick fur to prick his flesh with those more daring attempting to climb his legs to reach somewhere vital to attack. Deftly, he kicked out, tossing them away and then leaned down to gorge on more.

With lethal grace, the daiyoukai continued to dance among them, snatching mouthfuls to devour while he crushed the rest. Their numbers rapidly dwindling, the remaining warriors began to scatter. Refusing to spare a single life, Sesshoumaru ran them down, taking special care to rip them apart slowly for their cowardice. A few hid in the seeming safety of the surrounding buildings, but crumbling plaster and thatched roofs proved just as deadly as poisoned jaws when the daiyoukai trampled the flimsy structures.

Soon, only one remained, the one he wanted most, but Jianyu was nowhere to be found. Senses heightened from feeding, the youkai lord lifted his gore-crusted head up and scented the air. Smelling of expensive oils and perfume, the merchant's odor was not far.

OOOOOOOOOO

Panting heavily, Jianyu dabbed his forehead with a swatch of silk, soaking up the sweat that beaded there. Ahead of him was the torii gate and even as he stood above it by way of the steps, it was no less impressive in size and height. Turning to the side, the merchant stared back up at the crest of the stairs he had come down. The terrified screams of dying men had ended and now the graying night was empty but for an eerie, unnatural silence. Even with his ample legion, an assured victory was lost and at the hands of none other than a fragile priestess. He cursed faintly under his breath. Years of work were gone and his carefully crafted kingdom had come crumbling down all in one evening. Now he stood at the brink of escape and his slippered feet refused to move.

Beyond the magic-imbued arch were those they had yet to catch. The forests teemed with angry demons, all waiting to exact revenge for their brethren that had fallen to the warriors' swords and needles. Wise and patient, they hid from the hunting parties and the dangerous monks and priestesses that accompanied them. The shrine itself was the perfect sanctuary. The barrier originating from the gate hid the base from all who ventured near, preventing ambushes and allowing them to relax and brew their medicines without constant fear. Their refuge however was now being destroyed by their greatest terror and he had a decision. Hide here within the confines of the barrier or venture out into the forest and hope that he could survive long enough to reach help. Neither bode well for him and he sucked in his breath as he summoned his courage. He had survived worse odds when he had traveled the seas. He would not die here, not when there was so much more to do.

A sharp pain struck his knee and Jianyu yelped as he collapsed onto the corners of concrete beneath him. Blood seeped through his expensive robe, flowering into bright designs on the white silk as it trickled down his leg. Towering beside him, he spied tones of red and silver and a ragged sigh left him.

"Ancient beasts have no place in this world anymore, Prometheus," the merchant growled, his voice raspy with pain. "The gods have condemned you and it is only a matter of time before you fall like the others."

"Perhaps, we are condemned," Sesshoumaru answered coolly and then stepped down the stairs toward the arch. Stopping beside one of its large, red poles, he placed his hands on the old timber of the gate and pushed. The wood creaked and whined in protest as it cracked and then finally it fell, breaking away from it foundation to leave a splintered stump. The weight too great for the adjacent support, the other side rapidly gave in and the gate collapsed with a loud bang. Flickering brilliantly for a moment, the magic emanating from it dissolved and a gust of wind rushed up the stairs. Leaves and twigs fluttered past and the demon lord turned on his heel, his amber eyes gleaming as he looked down on the crumpled merchant. "Perhaps, the gods hate us and they intend our demise. But, you are no god and your demise shall come before mine."

Up the stairs, the daiyoukai approached, his steps slow and deliberate. Pleas of mercy and curses of hate pressed at his lips, but Jianyu bit his tongue to keep his silence, believing that neither would make any difference to a beast. He could not let it have the satisfaction. He was better than it, even in death. Body trembling with fear he could not hide; he closed his eyes and waited.

Silence.

Licking his lips, time bloated as he sat, expecting a sharp pain and the oblivion that would follow it. Instead, the wind blew with bits of debris brushing against him. Hesitantly, he peeked out from his closed lids and found nothing but the rustling forest. The demon lord was gone. His breath left him with a shuddering sigh and a delirious smile broadened on the merchant's face. Had the creature spared him? The notion of compassion from a youkai seemed too farfetched for his mind to comprehend and he sat stunned for a few moments.

Then his relieved grin faded as he spied a pair red lights glowing from the trees. Burning eyes, they glared at him and then another set appeared. Then before him, a litter of color spread along the edge of the woods with twisted growls and yips drowning the quiet.

"No," he whispered as black shapes slithered out onto the road, creeping toward him. "No, no, no! NO!"

OOOOOOOOOO

Stirring with a groan, Kagome slowly woke from an exhausting sleep. Her back and shoulder throbbing, she winced as she sat up, her fingers fumbling stupidly as she slipped them beneath her coat to touch the bandages wound tightly around her chest. Her mind lingered in a haze, the dim, amber light sharp through her cracked eyelids. Gradually, her sight adjusted, seeing blurry, unfamiliar crates and bottles in the strange room. Then a startled gasp escaped her. The menacing daiyoukai stood a few steps away, his intense eyes staring at her.

Despite being clothed neatly in his silk, armor and swords, his blood-dyed skin and sticky tendrils of hair brought the harrowing events of the night roiling to the forefront of her mind. Nausea overwhelmed her and the room began to spin. Swiftly, her hand found her forehead and she cradled it gently. The ruthless hunters and their divine purpose, Inuyasha's death and the feel of the needle piercing through Kioshi's heart all churned together until hopelessness corroded her stomach. Then amid all of the pain and confusion, there was the youkai lord, bringing reason with his cruelty. Neither evil nor good, he offered her a path that divided no one, but by life or death. She had chosen it, embraced it and she had hoped as death haunted her that she would soon pay for it.

"Why am I alive?" she asked, her voice soft and fearless.

He remained silent.

"Why did you save me? I should be dead and I know they didn't dress my wounds. You swore to kill me."

"I had questions," he finally answered.

"Questions?"

He nodded faintly in reply.

"I don't understand.

"I swore to kill you," he explained, "I am still tempted to do so. No other has been responsible for as much pain and humiliation as your ignorance and misguided justice has inflicted upon me. Your death seems required. Yet, even as this is certain, you freed me. Why?"

Speechless for a moment, Kagome sat on the table perplexed.

"Why?" she repeated.

"Yes, why free the one who has promised to kill you? You slew one of your own kind and severed my binds at the risk of your life so that I would have the opportunity to survive. Why do that?"

"Because, it was right."

"Right?"

"You told me that there was no way to choose between demons and humans. That both are equally flawed and neither side is better than the other. The only way to choose without bias was to judge everyone equally. To be willing to save or kill someone no matter who or what they are."

"And you killed."

"She was going to cut out your liver again. They were going to use your body to harvest parts over and over. They even… they even fed you him, thinking it would keep you alive longer. I just couldn't let them do it anymore. No one deserves it, no matter the reason."

"Hmm."

"Are you satisfied? Are you going to kill me now?"

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed with her questions.

"I was ready to die then," the priestess continued, her words pouring unchecked from her mouth. "I had hoped you would. I still am ready."

A long silence passed as the demon lord examined the resolve behind her thinly veiled request. Then he snorted, reaching for the black-hilted dagger secured in his belt. He turned the sheathed blade over in his palm and then tossed it to her. She caught it easily and looked up at him.

"I am not a tool and enough have died by my hand tonight. If this world is unbearable, then make your own future, through death or life."

Swallowing down, her eyes lowered to the weapon in her hands, torn again with indecision.

"The world however," he spoke up, walking toward an oil lamp on the wall, "Needs wisdom and it would be a pity if the deaths this night were wasted with only one to remember them."

"I didn't know it was him," she blurted out. "On my foot, I didn't know."

"I know that now."

Then the daiyoukai yanked the fixture free and began to pour the oil over the nearest table. Considering the flickering flame for a moment, he set it to the spilt oil and the wood flared up in a blaze. With a swifter stride, he ripped out another lamp and set fire to another corner. Wordlessly, the priestess followed his example, slipping down from her table to pull lamps free. Together, they quickly doused the room with flames.

Filling up with choking smoke, the air grew gray and thick. Gorging blaze licked the ceiling as it swelled into a fiery torrent. Mesmerized by the voracious fire, she ignored the dry heat that baked her skin, absorbed instead by its loud, crackling chuckle. Then she felt a tug at her sleeve and she blinked back to reality.

"We must go," Sesshoumaru advised, wooden beams creaking and bending above them. Kagome nodded and together they fled the room and down the steps.

Out into the yellow light of dawn, they escaped, turning around when they were a safe distance from the pagoda. Black smoke billowing out its windows and up through the roof, streams of tiles fell from the building, chiming as they struck the ground. Then with a loud whine, the eaves tumbled down and the roof caved in. Crashing and crumbling, the structure rapidly collapsed, the flames still brilliant as they slowly dissolved what remained into ash.

In silence, they watched the pyre burn until only delicate wisps of smoke remained among charred chunks of wood and clay. Behind them, the first peek of the sun rose above the horizon, burning away the dark night with the warmth of its light. Turning to the side, the priestess let its rays bathe her face and her hand slipped into her sleeve to feel for the oily bandage.

"I thought this night would never end," she said aloud, squeezing the jumbled ribbon and thinking of firerat fur. "And I know I'll be grieving him for the rest of my life, but I think I'll remember this sunrise before anything else about this night. To fill in the hole he leaves with peace and hope."

"Sunrise?" the youkai lord replied, the rare hint of sorrow coloring his voice, "When the sun touches the horizon, sunrise and sunset can often only be determined by direction. Is it in the east or is it in the west? Our world is changing. For you, for humanity, it may be the east, but for youkaikind, this sun only sets."

Desperately, she wanted to object, to argue for the hope she needed to believe in. Instead, her words were lost and the demon stepped away, walking toward the sun, his once proud shoulders bowed.

End


End file.
